rnia 
il 


THE  LIBRARY/  / 

OF    // 
THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 

IN  MEMORY  OF 
MRS.  VIRGINIA  B.  SPORER 


FLORIAN  MAYR 


FLORIAN  MAYR 

IDER  KRAFT-MAYR] 

A  HUMOROUS  TALE  OF  MUSICAL  LIFE 


BY 

ERNST  VON  WOLZOGEN 


ENGLISH  BY 

EDWARD  BRECK 

AND 

CHARLES  HARVEY  GENUNG 


NEW  YORK 

B.  W.  HUEBSCH 

1914 


Copyright,  1914,  by 
B.  W.  HUEBSCH 


Printed  in  U.  S.  A. 


DEDICATED 
TO  THE  MEMORY  OF 

FRANZ  LISZT 


2041968 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I    THE  SENSITIVE  ARTIST 11 

II  THIS  CURSED  Music   •     •     ;     •     •     •     •     23 

III  HERR  MAYR  FORGETS  HIMSELF        ...     40 

IV  HERR  MAYR  WANTS  TO  FORGET  HIMSELF 

AGAIN 56 

V    SATAN 76 

VI  KATZENJAMMER      .     .....,;     .     98 

VII  THROWN  Our  .     .    ....     ,     .     .     .119 

VIII  THE  EXAMINATION      .     .     ...     .     .  144 

IX    THE  GUILELESS  FOOL 165 

X    AN  INDISCRETION 188 

XI    ILONKA,  THE   GOOD 213 

XII    WAGALAWEIA 235 

XIII  A  WlEDERSEHEN 260 

XIV  THE  JUDGMENT 281 

XV    AN  ESCAPADE 309 

XVI    A  SORRY  FAREWELL 330 

XVII    THE  HEAVIEST  BLOW 354 

XVIII  VICTORY  AT  LAST                                        .  375 


FLORIAN  MAYR 

CHAPTEK  I 
The  Sensitive  Artist1 

ON  the  third  floor  of  one  of  the  oldest  houses  on  the 
Luisenplatz  in  Berlin,  Florian  Mayr,  the  pianist,  occu- 
pied a  furnished  room  which  he  hired  of  the  widow 
Stoltenhagen.  The  plain  whitewashed  ceiling  was  low 
and  discolored  by  smoke,  the  cheap  wallpaper  was  badly 
damaged,  and  the  floor  which  was  very  uneven  and 
footworn  had  once  been  painted  gray;  but  on 
the  other  hand  the  room  was  unusually  large  and, 
what  with  its  two  little  windows  to  the  west  and  its  two 
little  windows  to  the  north,  it  was  light  and  cheery. 
And  large,  indeed,  that  room  had  to  be  where  Florian 
Mayr's  powerful  and  sinewy  paws  pounded  the  keys; 
otherwise  the  volume  of  sound  that  gushed  from  his 
concert  grand  would  have  fairly  burst  the  walls  or  in 
the  long  run  would  at  least  have  seriously  injured  the 
sensitive  ears  of  this  piano-tamer. 

Herr  Florian  Mayr  was  a  wonderful  man.  He  was 
young,  only  twenty-three,  neither  handsome,  elegant, 
nor  rich;  such  a  man  is  by  no  means  likely  to  make 
much  of  an  impression  upon  a  Berlin  landlady,  espe- 
cially when  he  shakes  the  whole  house  with  his  piano 
playing  and  adds  insult  to  injury  by  buying  and  pre- 
11 


12  Florian  Mayr 

paring  his  own  tea  and  coffee;  but  it  is  an  actual  fact 
that  Florian  Mayr  did  mightily  impress  Frau  Stolten- 
hagen  as  well  as  her  niece  from  Pomerania  and  her 
servant  from  Miincheberg.  The  truth  is  this  young 
pianist  was  a  man  of  well-defined  purposes  in  life ;  one 
could  see  that  by  his  nose  which  lay  in  the  middle  of  his 
thin,  beardless,  rather  sallow  face  like  a  stray  bowlder 
on  a  level  heath.  For  a  man  with  such  a  nose  one 
would  be  careful  not  to  write  a  P  for  a  Q  and  even  the 
good-natured  little  brown  eyes,  which  on  occasion  fairly 
danced  with  merriment,  could  also  flash  terribly  when 
Florian  Mayr  flew  into  a  rage,  a  thing  which  might 
easily  happen  whenever  the  three  women  who  minis- 
tered to  his  needs  failed  to  satisfy  his  exacting  demands 
as  to  punctuality,  order,  and  neatness.  With  perfect 
serenity  he  had  promised  the  serving-maid  to  bat  her 
about  the  ears  with  his  cast-iron  bootjack  if  she  con- 
tinued night  after  night  to  shove  that  implement  as  far 
under  the  bed  as  she  possibly  could.  This  assurance  she 
had  taken  seriously  and  on  the  strength  of  it  had  summed 
up  her  judgment  in  the  significant  statement :  "  Herr 
Mayr  can  lay  about  him  for  fair,  he's  that  strong !  " 

That  was  it;  the  natural  strength  of  his  character 
filled  the  women  with  timidity  and  awe.  He  was  a 
whole  man  in  spite  of  his  long,  artist's  hair  which, 
smoothly  brushed  back  from  his  high  narrow  forehead, 
hung  in  straight  lines  down  to  his  neck.  Besides,  his 
life  was  so  well  ordered  as  to  be  almost  uncanny.  He 
regulated  it  by  the  watch,  paid  his  bills  promptly,  and 
never  brought  home  with  him  too  much  alcohol  or  any 
other  nocturnal  companion.  Frau  Stoltenhagen  was 
also  aware  that  her  tenant  gave  lessons  in  the  best 
houses  and  received  from  five  to  ten  marks  an  hour. 


The  Sensitive  Artist  13 

Her  niece  from  Pomerania,  Fraulein  Frieda,  also  ap- 
proved of  a  regular  life ;  moreover  she  was  a  very  pretty 
and  wholesome  girl.  In  a  case  like  that  how  could  one 
tell  —  it  would  not  have  been  so  bad.  Meanwhile  the 
good  landlady  indemnified  herself  for  the  breakfast  and 
supper  which  he  did  not  procure  from  her  by  innocently 
participating  in  his  supply  of  groceries,  soap,  and  tooth- 
powder.  There  was  another  problem  that  agitated  the 
breast  of  Frau  Stoltenhagen :  how  was  a  young  man  of 
so  prematurely  ripe  manhood,  whose  conduct  was  so 
alarmingly  exemplary,  to  be  accounted  for  ?  There 
must  be  some  mystery  about  him.  Following  this  line 
of  thought,  she  subjected  all  communications  addressed 
to  Herr  Florian  Mayr  to  a  searching  scrutiny  whenever 
by  chance  or  strategy  she  got  hold  of  any.  Her  suspi- 
cions reached  out  in  two  directions :  Florian  Mayr  was 
either  already  consumed  by  a  "  grande  passion  "  or  else 
he  was  something  other  than  he  gave  himself  out  to  be. 
How  often  had  Frau  Stoltenhagen  lingered  in  deep 
meditation  before  the  life-size  plaster  bust  of  Franz 
Liszt  which  stood  between  the  windows  on  a  black 
wooden  pedestal  at  the  left  of  the  piano,  and  had  grown 
thoughtful  when  she  perceived  the  resemblance  between 
her  tenant  and  this  musical  Titan.  There  was  the 
same  narrow  bony  face,  the  same  all-dominating  nose, 
the  same  long  straight  hair.  As  to  mouth  and  eyes,  to 
be  sure,  they  differed  and  instead  of  the  five  warts  of 
the  Master  Herr  Florian  had  but  one.  Could  it  be  that 
he  was  the  son  of  Franz  Liszt  by  some  Russian  princess 
or  other  ?  It  is  true,  he  said  that  his  father  was  a  hum- 
ble organist  in  Bayreuth  but  what  did  that  amount  to? 
The  Russian  princess  could  have  bought  up  a  Bayreuth 
organist  with  a  handful  of  rubles.  Frau  Stoltenhagen 


14  Florian  Mayr 

had  a  lively  imagination.  To  her  mind  the  matter  was 
practically  proven  and  if,  in  spite  of  this,  she  was  still 
untiring  in  her  search  for  documentary  proofs,  this  was 
the  expression  only  of  a  certain  excess  of  official  zeal 
which  during  her  many  years  of  intercourse  with  her 
late  husband,  the  city  clerk,  had  become  a  part  of  her 
nature. 

It  was  half  past  nine  in  the  morning  of  the  eleventh 
of  November,  1879.  It  was  a  day  like  any  other. 
Florian  Mayr  had  risen  as  usual  at  eight,  had  made 
coffee,  and  then  as  usual  had  played  scales  and  finger- 
exercises  for  an  hour.  The  first  lesson  he  had  to  give 
to-day  was  at  ten.  Accordingly  he  was  about  to  make 
ready  to  go  out  but  on  this  occasion  he  had  certain  new 
and  peculiar  measures  to  take.  He  folded  a  sheet  of 
writing  paper  three  times  and  cut  it  with  a  knife  into 
eight  pieces.  On  each  of  these  eight  slips  he  wrote 
with  a  pen  in  large  vertical  strokes  a  weighty  and  sig- 
nificant word.  Then  from  another  sheet  he  cut  some 
very  narrow  strips  and  covered  them  with  gum  arabic. 

He  had  reached  this  stage  of  his  preparations  when 
there  came  a  timid  knock  at  the  door. 

"Hold  on!  Who's  there?"  shouted  Florian  Mayr 
aa  with  two  great  bounds  he  sprang  to  the  door.  Push- 
ing back  the  bolt,  he  opened  the  door  a  little  and  peeped 
through  the  narrow  crack.  "  Oh,  it's  you,  Prczewalski  ? 
Well,  Prosit !  Come  in !  "  he  cried  in  a  tone  that  was 
not  exactly  overjoyed.  A  gentleman  of  medium  height 
entered;  his  long  havelock,  gigantic  soft  hat,  and  long 
soft  locks  at  once  betrayed  the  artist. 

The  gentleman  with  the  difficult  name  removed  his 
hat,  ran  the  fingers  of  his  left  hand  through  his  soft 
dark  mane,  drew  his  drooping  mustache  through  his 


The  Sensitive  Artist  15 

fingers  in  a  melancholy  manner  to  remove  the  melted 
frost,  and  finally,  raising  his  tired  eyes,  brought  himself 
to  say  in  a  wearied  tone :  "  Good  morning." 

"  What  can  I  do  for  you  ?  Won't  you  sit  down  ?  " 
said  Mayr  impatiently,  pointing  to  the  old  lounge. 
"  That  is,  you  see,  I'm  just  going  out.  How  are  you, 
Prosit,  anyhow  ? " 

"  Thanks, —  not  at  all  well ;  nerves,  nerves !  "  com- 
plained the  Polish  gentleman  sleepily,  as  he  passed  the 
back  of  his  hand  over  his  high  arched  eyebrows.  "  Why 
do  you  always  say  '  Prosit '  to  me,  dear  friend  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  see,"  answered  Florian  Mayr  good-na- 
turedly, "  until  I  have  succeeded  in  sneezing  your  name 
out  properly,  I'd  rather  say  '  Prosit '  for  short.  But 
of  course  I  could  say  '  Gesundheit '  if  you  prefer." 

With  an  effort  the  Pole  opened  his  fine  languishing 
eyes  wide  and  with  gentle  reproach  in  his  voice  which 
was  always  slightly  nasal  he  drawled:  "  My  dear 
friend,  why  make  you  always  fun  of  me  ?  If  my  name 
is  for  you  too  hard,"  (and  he  rolled  his  *r'  roundly), 
"  call  me  by  my  first  name.  We  are  brothers  in  art." 

"  All  right,  what  is  your  name  ?  " 

"  But,  dear  friend,  here  is  my  card  if  you  please. 
My  name  is  Antonine  —  do  not  forget  it  always." 

Florian  took  the  card,  regarded  it  on  both  sides  with 
seeming  astonishment,  and  with  a  peculiar  twitching 
at  the  corners  of  his  mouth  replied  after  a  pause: 
"  ^ow  just  look  at  that,  nothing  but  Antonine.  I 
should  certainly  have  labeled  you  with  something  end- 
ing in  '  laus.'  " 

" Why,  pray?" 

"  I  can't  help  it  —  somehow  or  other  you  make  a  kind 
of  '  lausy '  impression  on  me.  !N"o  offense,  dear  friend." 


16  Florian  Mayr 

The  handsome  Pole  looked  up  at  his  tall  friend  doubt- 
fully and  the  tips  of  his  mustache  trembled  slightly  as  if 
he  were  a  trifle  hurt. — "  That's  meant  for  a  joke,  I  sup- 
pose," he  said  in  a  troubled  tone  and  as  Florian  Mayr 
made  no  intelligible  reply,  he  walked  slowly  over  to  the 
writing  desk, —  a  highly  polished  roll-top  affair  known 
as  a  '  cylinder-bureau  ', —  and  stared  irresolutely,  almost 
gloomily,  at  the  slips  and  strips  of  paper  there.  He 
breathed  hard  through  his  nose  once  or  twice  in  a  pre- 
paratory manner  and  asked :  "  What  are  you  going  to 
do  here?"  (The  roll  of  the  'r'  was  always  strongly 
marked.) 

"  Oh,  I've  gone  into  authorship  a  little,"  answered 
Florian  Mayr  thoroughly  delighted  as  he  always  was 
when  he  had  brought  a  deserved  rebuke  home  to  the  one 
who  deserved  it. 

"  Extraordinary,"  said  the  Pole  after  a  short  pause, 
shaking  his  head.  Then  in  a  voice  which  seemed  to  be 
dying  of  weariness  he  read  the  inscriptions  on  the  slips 
of  paper :  "  Firstly :  Fie  for  shame !  "  "  Secondly : 
Ha !  Thou  art  discovered !  "  "  Thirdly :  Silly  goose !  " 
"Fourthly:  Blooming  idiot!"  "Fifthly:  Caught!" 
"  Sixthly:  Old  cow! "  "  Seventhly:  Now  will  you  be 
good !  "  "  Eighthly :  I've  had  enough  of  this !  " 

Florian  appeared  to  be  sorry  for  the  helplessness  of 
his  friend  Antonine,  or  was  it  a  kind  of  inventor's  pride 
that  made  him  communicative?  At  all  events  he  con- 
descended to  explain.  He  placed  one  of  the  slips  of 
paper  in  each  of  the  eight  little  drawers  of  his  desk  and 
with  the  narrow  strips  he  pasted  the  front  of  each 
drawer  fast  to  the  shelf  above  it.  If  now  in  his  absence 
the  curious  landlady  should  open  any  one  of  the  draw- 
ers, she  must  inevitably  betray  herself  by  the  torn 


The  Sensitive  Artist  17 

paper  strip  and  he  would  have  the  satisfaction  of  know- 
ing that  she  must  have  read  the  nattering  message 
placed  in  that  particular  drawer.  When  he  had  suc- 
cessfully accomplished  the  difficult  task  of  pasting, 
Florian  Mayr  drew  himself  up  proudly  and  trium- 
phantly whispered :  "  Well,  what  d'ye  say  to  that,  An- 
tonine  Prositlaus?  Jolly  good  trap,  what?  But 
d'ye  know  how  I  punished  the  whole  lot  of  them  a  while 
ago  for  stealing  my  coffee  all  the  time  ?  I  bought  a 
quarter  of  a  pound  of  rhubarb  with  my  own  good  money 
and  I  mixed  it  carefully  with  half  a  pound  of  finely 
ground  coffee.  I  tell  you  it  worked  to  a  charm!  It 
was  more  fun  than  a  goat!  Every  time  I  heard  foot- 
steps in  the  corridor  and  anxious  whispers  I  stuck  out 
my  head  and  said :  '  You're  not  feeling  quite  well,  my 
dear  madam,  or  my  dear  child,  as  the  case  might  be.'  " 

Prositlaus  smiled  almost  imperceptibly:  "Extra- 
ordinary !  Very  funny !  By  the  way,  my  dear  friend, 
I  wanted  to  ask  you:  can  you  lend  me  twenty 
marks  ?  " 

"  Xot  just  now,  I'm  sorry  to  say,  but  I've  still  a 
goodly  supply  of  the  health-coffee  on  hand,  if  you  hap- 
pen to  need  that.  Excuse  me,  but  now  I  really  must 
go." 

With  this  Elorian  Mayr  plunged  into  his  winter  coat, 
put  on  his  hat,  and  —  placed  the  desk  key  in  plain 
sight  on  top  of  the  desk.  He  knew  that  Frau  Stolten- 
hagen  could  not  withstand  that  temptation.  Such 
malice  did  Florian  Mayr  bear.  Then  he  opened  the 
door  wide  for  his  guest  and  with  a  significant  wave  of 
his  hand  said :  "  It  has  given  me  much  pleasure  — " 

With  a  deep  sigh  Prczewalski  left  the  room.  Mayr 
followed  him,  slamming  the  door,  and  shouted  down 


18  Florian  Mayr 

the  back  corridor:     "Fran   Stoltenhagen,   I'm  going 
now." 

His  soft  hat  drawn  far  down  over  his  forehead  and 
with  the  gloomy  mien  of  a  man  really  suffering,  the 
noble  Pole  stiffly  descended  the  stairs.  But  it  was  not 
in  Mayr's  nature  to  proceed  so  deliberately.  "  Keally, 
I  am  in  an  awful  hurry,  excuse  me !  "  he  said,  grabbing 
his  silk  hat  by  the  brim,  "  Good-by,  old  man."  And 
like  a  high-spirited  boy  he  sprang  down  the  stairs  in 
gigantic  bounds. 

He  heard  his  companion  stumbling  clumsily  along 
behind  him  and  calling  to  him  with  all  the  strength 
of  his  weak  lungs.  Whether  moved  by  pity  or  by  re- 
gret for  his  rather  overdone  rudeness,  at  all  events  he 
waited  at  the  house  door  below. 

Prczewalski  was  wheezing  when  he  caught  up  with 
him.  "  Please, —  dear  friend,  doctor  told  me,  I  have 
fatty  heart  Let  me  accompany  you.  I've  nothing  to 
do." 

"  All  right,"  said  Florian,  but  he  set  a  pace  which 
very  soon  forced  the  Pole  to  seize  his  arm  and  allow 
himself  to  be  dragged  along.  He  tripped  on  panting 
by  the  side  of  his  long-legged  companion  for  he  could 
not  afford  to  let  the  opportunity  slip  of  renewing  his 
request,  since  it  was  no  easy  matter  to  get  hold  of  this 
Florian  Mayr ;  he  always  had  so  much  to  do. 

"  You  see,  what  I  wanted  to  say,"  he  began.  "  I 
need  money.  I  haven't  a  penny  in  my  pocket,  can't 
get  shaved  to-day.  Tell  me,  what  does  one  do  to  get 
pupils  at  ten  marks  an  hour  in  good  families  with 
pretty  daughters  ? " 

"  But  you've  got  means,"  retorted  Mayr  impatiently. 
"  You  have  your  sonatas  printed  at  your  own  expense. 


The  Sensitive  Artist  19 

It  takes  money  to  do  that!  You  are  lodged  like  a 
count  and  eat  at  the  best  restaurants." 

"  Oh,  I'm  afraid  you  cannot  understand  the  cre- 
ative artist.  Some  comfort  and  luxury  are  necessary 
to  inspiration.  I  have  no  inspiration  when  I  eat  sau- 
sage with  garlic  in  it  and  drink  beer.  I  can't  compose 
when  my  trousers  are  torn  and  there  are  grease  spots 
on  my  cravat.  Wagner  has  to  have  yellow  satin  for 
his  clothes-lining." 

"  Quite  so,"  interrupted  Florian  laconically,  "  but 
then,  you  see,  he  is  the  Wagner." 

"  I  know  that,"  replied  the  other,  tossing  his  head 
and  smiling  contemptuously,  "  but  why  may  I  not  wake 
up  some  morning  the  Prczewalski  ?  The  creative  artist 
has  a  right  to  his  artistic  moods.  I  am  a  sensitive 
artist.  I  need  luxurious  surroundings,  soft  fabrics, 
soft  cushions,  soft  colors;  coarse  foods  give  me  indi- 
gestion." 

"  Why  don't  you  eat  soft  eggs  ?  They're  cheap,"  re- 
torted Florian,  endeavoring  to  mock  his  friend's  strong 
Slavic  accent. 

The  sensitive  artist,  disregarding  this  friendly  ad- 
vice, continued  eagerly :  "  I've  had  my  latest  sonata 
for  piano  and  cello  published, —  you  know, —  dedicated 
to  Griitzmacher  —  cost  me  a  month's  income, —  and 
what  have  I  left?  I  must  earn  some  money.  You 
have  so  many  pupils  and  you  are  so  well  paid.  Couldn't 
you  give  up  one  wealthy  family  to  me,  with  pretty 
daughters  ? " 

"  Have  they  really  got  to  be  pretty  ?  " 

"  Of  course.  I'm  not  going  to  teach  silly  geese  to 
play.  I  want  to  marry.  That's  a  sacrifice  that  I'm 
willing  to  make  for  my  art;  I  will  sell  myself.  I'm 


20  Florian  Mayr 

prepared  to  sell  the  man  in  order  to  rescue  the  creative 
artist." 

Florian  Mayr  turned  away  to  conceal  the  delighted 
grimace  with  which  he  gave  vent  to  his  feelings.  Then, 
cordially  pinching  the  fair  Antonine's  arm  till  he 
squealed  pitifully,  Mayr  replied :  "  So  you  think  that 
rich  and  pretty  girls  would  take  to  the  sensitive  artist 
so  easily  ?  " 

The  Pole  measured  him  with  a  look  that  was  almost 
pitying.  "  But,  my  dear  friend,  I  ought  to  know 
women !  They  can  all  be  caught  with  sugar,  a  cat  of 
a  chambermaid  as  well  as  a  princess,  especially  if  they're 
musical.  If  I  should  tell  you  my  adventures,  you 
wouldn't  believe  me.  The  Countess  Proskowski 
poisoned  herself  on  my  account  and  Prince  Smirczicki 
wanted  to  fight  a  pistol  duel  with  ma  But  I  hadn't 
time;  the  next  night  I  had  to  attend  a  concert  in  War- 
saw where  I  conducted  my  symphony,  opus  7.  The 
Princess  Smirczicki  presented  me  with  a  laurel  wreath. 
I  can  assure  you,  all  the  high  aristocracy  are  at  my 
beck  and  call.  But  one  doesn't  marry  these  ladies, — 
they're  too  likely  to  become  inconvenient  and  cost  more 
than  they  bring  in.  The  daughter  of  some  tradesman 
is  better,  with  a  few  thousand  marks  or  so.  Don't  you 
know  something  of  that  sort  for  me  ? " 

"  If  you've  no  objections  to  a  goose  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,  rather  prefer  it." 

"  And  as  unmusical  as  a  pug  dog  ?  " 

"  Hm,  if  she  isn't  too  tall  and  thin." 

"  No,  not  a  bit  of  it,  she's  beautifully  plump  and 
rich  and  romantic  too." 

"  Just  the  thing.     Where  does  she  live?  " 

"  She's  the  only  daughter  of  the  wealthy  Consul  Bur- 


The  Sensitive  Artist  21 

mester  in  the  Markgrafenstrasse.  I'll  give  you  a  rec- 
ommendation. The  fact  is,  you'll  do  me  a  favor  if 
you'll  relieve  me  of  giving  her  lessons.  But  here  we 
are.  This  is  my  place  and  so  farewell,  old  man," 
wherewith  he  just  barely  touched  his  hat  and  rang  the 
bell  of  a  house  in  the  Koonstrasse  before  which  they 
had  stopped. 

"  Thank  you,  dear  friend,"  answered  the  Pole.  "  A 
propos,  can't  you  lend  me  ten  marks  ?  I  really  must 
get  a  shave." 

"  You  can  get  that  for  ten  pfennigs." 

"  My  lord,  my  lord,  you  are  a  singular  man !  You 
don't  understand  the  creative  artist.  Eight  in  here," 
he  said,  tapping  himself  on  the  forehead,  "  Louis  d'ors 
are  to  be  had  by  the  thousands  and  you  won't  lend  me 
ten  marks !  " 

Meanwhile  the  heavy  oaken  door  had  been  unlatched 
and  Florian  Mayr  braced  his  foot  in  the  opening  that 
it  might  not  snap  to  again.  Taking  a  ten  mark  piece 
from  his  pocketbook,  he  said :  "  There,  if  you  please, 
my  respected  friend,  till  the  first  of  the  month,  eh? 
when  you  receive  the  rents  from  your  Polish  estates. 
I  haven't  got  it  to  spare  either.  Get  a  good  clean 
shave." 

Almost  inaudibly  Prczewalski  breathed  his  thanks 
through  his  nose,  slipped  the  goldpieoe  into  his  waist- 
coat pocket,  and  gave  his  friend  a  parting  handshake. 

"  The  devil  take  him !  It's  like  running  a  fox-brush 
through  your  fingers,"  growled  Florian  Mayr  half 
aloud,  and  shaking  his  bared  hand  as  if  something 
disgusting  had  stuck  to  it,  he  ascended  the  well  car- 
peted stairs  of  the  aristocratic  mansion. 

The  "  sensitive  artist,"  however,  expressed  himself 


22  Morian  Mayr 

in  Polish  concerning  his  friend  in  much  less  flattering 
terms.  He  hated  this  rugged,  uncompromising  man 
and  eagerly  longed  for  a  chance  to  revenge  himself  upon 
him  for  all  the  stinging  jokes  with  which  the  rude  fel- 
low loved  to  torment  him.  He  walked  along  slowly  till 
he  came  to  a  barber  shop  where  he  got  a  shave  for 
twenty  pfennigs.  From  the  barber's  he  went  to  the 
confectioner's  and  drank  a  cup  of  chocolate  and  ate 
some  apple-cake  with  whipped  cream  on  it,  for  he  was 
a  "sensitive  artist"  and  loved  soft  things. 


CHAPTEK  II 
This  Cursed  Music 

THE  man-servant  started  to  leave  the  bed-room  of  his 
master  with  the  consul's  shoes  in  his  hand. 

"  Oh,  Fritz,  you  might  bring  me  the  lamp  with  the 
green  shade.  I  think  I'll  —  it  will  be  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  before  tea  is  ready, —  just  fetch  me  the  evening 
paper  from  my  room.  I  think  it's  on  the  writing 
desk." 

"  Very  well,  sir." 

The  man  disappeared  and  Consul  Bunnester,  a  portly 
little  gentleman  of  some  fifty  years,  took  off  his  coat 
and  threw  himself  with  a  deep  sigh  of  relief  into  a 
low  easy-chair  in  front  of  the  stove,  in  which  a  freshly 
fed  fire  had  just  begun  to  crackle  with  renewed  energy. 
The  little  gentleman  polished  with  his  silk  handkerchief 
his  bald  head  until  it  was  so  smooth  that  the  flickering 
flames  were  reflected  upon  it.  Then  he  ran  all  his 
ten  fingers  through  the  crown  of  thin,  blond  hair  which 
clung  to  his  cranium,  and  also  through  his  close-cut 
beard.  Then  he  took  off  his  high  stiff  collar,  stretched 
out  his  short  fat  legs,  leaned  far  back  and  yawned.  He 
yawned  long  drawn  out,  then  staccato,  then  in  tremolo, 
gliding  slowly  from  the  highest  falsetto  down  to  a  more 
normal  register.  He  yawned  again  and  again,  varying 
artistically  the  motive  "  oo  —  ah !  " :  "  oo  —  oh  — 
ah  —  ah  —  ah  —  ooaiaiaiaiai  —  hoohoohoohoohoo  — 
hoo !  "  Like  a  true  disciple  of  the  Sybarites  he  ex- 

23 


24  Florian  Mayr 

tracted  from  the  yawn  the  fullest  enjoyment  with 
pedantic  thoroughness,  until  at  last  he  settled  down  with 
a  short  grunt  of  satisfaction  and  folded  his  hands  over 
his  round  abdomen.  He  still  held  the  collar,  wilted  with 
perspiration,  between  two  fingers,  and  awaited  thus  the 
return  of  his  servant. 

At  that  same  time  the  mistress  of  the  house  was  also 
occupied  in  making  herself  comfortable  for  the  evening 
meaL 

Frau  Olga  Burmester's  bed-room  lay  toward  the 
front  of  the  house,  next  the  drawing-room.  Whenever 
there  was  company  she  was  accustomed  to  leave  the 
folding  doors  between  bed-room  and  salon  wide  open. 
She  had  heard  that  it  was  the  fashion  among  the  swell 
Parisian  ladies  to  use  the  bed-room  of  the  lady  of  the 
house  as  an  additional  reception-room,  and,  on  "mi- 
graine "  days  and  during  other  similar  aristocratic  in- 
dispositions, even  to  receive  in  the  bed-room,  which  for 
this  reason  naturally  took  on  the  more  intimate  char- 
acter of  a  boudoir.  And  as  Frau  Consul  Burmester, 
nee  von  Studnitzka,  was  much  given  to  copying  every- 
thing that  was  foreign  and  hence  for  Germany  pos- 
sessed the  charm  of  the  unusual,  she  had  given  much 
care  and  attention  to  the  arrangement  and  decoration 
of  her  bed-room.  The  broad,  very  low  canopy  bed,  a 
rare  masterpiece  of  early  German  woodcarving,  stood 
upon  a  carpeted  dais,  the  walls  on  each  side  being  con- 
cealed by  large  imitations  of  Gobelin  tapestries,  while 
the  whole  floor  was  covered  with  a  thick  Smyrna  rug. 
The  pillows  were  bordered  with  broad  lace  and  lay 
on  exhibition  even  in  the  daytime  upon  the  coverlid  of 
old-gold  satin.  The  few  chairs  were  also  upholstered 
in  old-gold  satin.  A  handsome  mirror  reaching  almost 


This  Cursed  Music  25 

to  the  ceiling,  an  extremely  elegant  dressing-table,  and 
a  fine  commode  of  the  baroque  period  completed  the 
inventory,  the  washing  table  and  other  necessities  being 
relegated  to  a  small  room  at  the  side. 

The  mistress  of  all  this  elegance,  attired  in  a  neg- 
ligee of  white,  was  seated  in  an  easy  chair  before  the 
great  mirror  while  her  maid,  kneeling  in  front  of  her, 
exchanged  her  shoes  for  a  pair  of  elegant  Turkish 
slippers. 

"  When  did  my  daughter  go  to  bed  ? "  she  inquired 
of  the  girl.  "  Do  you  know  whether  her  headache  is 
better?" 

"  I  don't  know,  ma'am ;  I  haven't  seen  Fraulein 
Thekla  since  eight  o'clock.  She  was  reading  in  the 
master's  room." 

"  Reading  ?  One  doesn't  read  with  a  headache ;  I'll 
just  go  and  see." 

Frau  Burmester  rose  quickly,  gave  another  look  into 
the  mirror,  hooked  her  loose  gown  together  and  left 
the  bed-room  hastily.  She  passed  through  the  draw 
ing-room  and  the  dining-room,  where  the  manservant 
was  giving  a  last  hand  to  the  tea-table,  over  which  she 
cast  a  cursory  glance. 

"Why  three  places,  Fritz?  My  daughter  has  gone 
to  bed." 

The  man  tried  in  vain  to  suppress  a  smile  and  re- 
plied, "  I  just  saw  Fraulein  Thekla  in  the  study  as  I 
went  to  fetch  the  paper  for  the  consul." 

"  Just  now  ? "  And  Frau  Burmester  raised  her 
head  and  regarded  the  grinning  servant  with  astonish- 
ment. She  knit  her  eyebrows.  "  Very  well,  I  will 
see."  And  quickening  her  steps  she  proceeded  by  way 
of  the  back  corridor  to  her  daughter's  room. 


26  Florian  Mayr 

As  soon  as  the  mistress  had  gone,  Marie,  the  pretty 
maid,  appeared  in  the  dining-room.  Fritz  went  over 
and  put  his  arm  familiarly  about  her  waist. 

"  I  tell  you,  Fraulein  Thekla'll  catch  it  this  time ! 
She  ought  to  have  been  in  bed  long  ago,  eh?  I  just 
saw  her  sittin'  in  the  master's  room  with  her  fingers 
in  her  ears,  like  this,  over  that  pink-covered  book  you 
lent  her." 

"  Good  heavens !  "  exclaimed  the  maid  in  a  low  voice, 
as  she  freed  herself  from  Fritz's  embrace.  "  If  Frahi 
Burmester  should  catch  her  at  it !  I'd  get  a  dose  too !  " 

Fritz  grinned  maliciously.  "You  see,  my  little 
angel,  what  you  get  for  it.  What  do  you  want  to  give 
a  half-grown  girl  such  an  exciting  book  for  anyway  ? " 

"  I  was  sorry  for  the  poor  girl.  She's  not  allowed 
to  do  anything  she  likes  to.  Nothing  but  singing  and 
playing  the  piano;  it's  enough  to  drive  one  mad.  I'm 
sorry  for  her,  she's  such  a  nice  girl.  She  never  goes 
out  either  except  to  the  fine  concerts  where  you  can't 
even  get  a  glass  of  beer.  A  girl  wants  to  see  some- 
thing more  of  life  at  her  age." 

a  Of  course,  and  especially  about  wnat  you  call 
falling  in  love  is  what  she  wants  to  know,  hey  ? "  said 
the  teasing  Fritz.  "  Well,  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  you're 
right.  I'm  sorry  for  her  myself.  So  young  and  pretty 
and  the  old  lady  after  her  every  minute,  for  fear  she'll 
have  too  much  fun.  I'd  like  to  know  how  them  kind 
of  people  got  such  a  child  as  that." 

"  Fritz,   you  never   will  learn  to   speak  properly. 
You  must  say  those  kind/'  said  Marie,  with  a  superior 
smile.     "  Well,  I  don't  wonder  that  you  wonder.     I 
know  something  you  don't." 
"What  might  that  be?" 


This  Cursed  Music  27 

"  Think  I'll  tell  you  ?     You  keep  a  secret !     Haha !  " 

"  Now  you  make  me  curious.  Tell  me,  do !  I'm  as 
still  as  the  grave,  and  it's  a  nice  kiss  you'll  get  from  me 
too,  Marie!" 

"  Oh,  what  a  stupid !  That  would  do  me  a  lot  of 
good !  Let  me  go, —  I'm  busy !  " 

The  pretty  lass  eluded  adroitly  the  embrace  of  the 
amorous  youth  and  ran  from  the  room.  For  a  few  mo- 
ments she  stood  out  in  the  corridor  by  Thekla's  door 
and  listened.  Right  enough,  there  were  sounds  of  sob- 
bing and  chiding  within. 

A  few  minutes  later  Frau  Burmester  came  out,  evi- 
dently agitated,  with  a  pink-covered  book  in  her  hand, 
and  swept  through  the  hall  into  the  bed-room  of  her 
husband.  The  consul  still  sat  in  his  shirtsleeves,  read- 
ing the  evening  paper  by  the  light  of  the  green-shaded 
lamp.  He  had  spread  out  his  colored  silk  handkerchief 
over  his  knees  and  the  limp  collar  lay  clasped  round  the 
little  gentleman's  fat  thigh. 

"  Really,  Willy !  "  cried  his  wife  impatiently,  as  she 
closed  the  door  behind  her.  Then  she  remained  stand- 
ing on  the  threshold  and  drew  her  slim  figure  up  to  its 
full,  by  no  means  inconsiderable  height, —  a  living  ex- 
clamation-point, the  very  spirit  of  disapproval  made 
flesh  (or  rather  skin  and  bones),  a  living  picture  in  the 
door  frame. 

Herr  Burmester  let  his  paper  sink  with  a  sigh  of  res- 
ignation and  peered  up  over  his  gold  eyeglasses  at  hia 
spouse. 

"  What's  the  matter,  my  dear  ?     Is  supper  ready  ?  " 

"  No,"  she  replied,  going  towards  him.  "  I  must 
have  a  serious  talk  with  you.  But  you  would  favor  me 
very  much  if  you  would  complete  your  toilet  some- 


28  Florian  Mayr 

what.  You  know  I  can't  abide  such  slovenly  bachelor 
habits." 

"Oh  Lord,  all  right !  "  replied  the  consul  submis- 
sively, as  he  rose  with  a  sigh.  "  Well,  what's  the  im- 
portant news?  I  thought  I  might  be  allowed  ten 
minutes  to  read  my  paper  in  peace."  And  he  buttoned 
on  a  clean  collar  and  donned  a  smoking  jacket. 

His  wife  held  out  to  him  excitedly  the  pink-covered 
novel  and  said,  "  There,  look  at  that !  What  do  you 
think  it  is  ?  Guess  where  I  found  it !  " 

The  consul  read  the  title  on  the  cover  in  a  tone  of 
indifference :  Two  Hundred  Fathoms  under  the  Earth, 
or,  the  Blood-Countess. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  what  of  it  ?  It's  a  penny-dread- 
ful that  you  probably  unearthed  in  the  kitchen  pantry. 
Perhaps  you  regard  it  as  one  of  my  duties  to  call  up 
the  cook  and  make  a  scene !  " 

Frau  Burmester  subdued  her  voice  to  a  hoarse  whis- 
per. 

"  That  is  the  chosen  literature  of  our  daughter !  "  she 
gasped  as  she  threw  the  pink  book  contemptuously  upon 
the  nearest  table.  "  Thekla  pretends  to  have  a  head- 
ache in  order  not  to  have  to  go  to  the  concert  with  us, 
and  while  we  think  she's  in  bed  she's  devouring  this 
atrocious  stuff.  She  borrowed  it  from  Marie.  I 
caught  her  in  her  bed-room.  She  was  trying  to  get  un- 
dressed quickly  so  as  to  make  believe  she  had  gone  to 
bed  long  ago,  and  just  as  I  entered  she  was  hiding  the 
book  under  her  pillow." 

"  Well,  well,  well !  "  murmured  the  consul,  plunging 
his  hands  helplessly  into  his  trousers  pockets. 

"  Indeed !  And  that's  all  you've  got  to  say  ?  You 
don't  seem  to  appreciate  what  this  pleasing  discovery 


This  Cursed  Music  29 

means.  It's  beginning  to  come  out  now,  this  tendency 
towards  the  vulgar ;  it  is  born  in  her  —  it  is  heredi- 
tary!" 

"  You  say  that  in  a  tone  as  if  it  were  my  fault. 
She's  not  my  child." 

"  I  don't  mean  that,  thank  God !  "  replied  Frau  Olga, 
with  a  laugh  that  was  almost  a  sneer. 

The  consul  now  began  to  get  a  little  excited  himself. 
He  jingled  the  keys  in  his  pocket  and  rocked  nervously 
on  his  feet. 

"  Don't  exaggerate,  I  beg  of  you,"  he  cried  reprov- 
ingly. "  The  child  is  gentle  and  good  and  affectionate, 
and  if  she  has  inherited  no  more  criminal  tendencies 
than  a  liking  for  trashy  literature,  I  think  we  may  be 
very  well  satisfied.  Taste  is  capable  of  being  educated. 
As  for  the  rest,  you  will  perhaps  remember  that  the 
idea  of  adopting  an  absolutely  strange  child  came  from 
you.  I  myself  wanted  to  take  some  poor  relative  into 
the  house." 

"  I  gave  you  the  choice  of  half  a  dozen  young  girls 
in  my  own  family  alone,"  exclaimed  Frau  Olga  in  a 
tone  of  pique. 

The  consul  retorted  promptly,  "  None  of  them  was 
particularly  sympathetic  to  me,  and  besides  you  picked 
every  one  of  them  to  pieces  yourself.  You  absolutely 
would  have  a  beauty  and  try  to  make  a  musical  genius 
out  of  her.  That's  why  you  preferred  the  daughter  of 
a  vagabond  musician  and  a  pretty  hotel  chambermaid  to 
all  the  legitimate  children  of  both  our  families.  And 
now  you  may  bear  the  consequences  yourself." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  "  cried  Frau  Olga  ex- 
citedly, her  dark,  apelike  eyes  flashing  and  full  of  fight. 
She  sat  down  in  the  easy  chair  that  the  consul  had  oc- 


30  Florian  Mayr 

cupied  before  and  drummed  with  her  fingers  on  the 
table, 

"  I  have  let  you  have  your  way,  my  dear,"  she  pro- 
ceeded acidly.  "  You  think  you  can  put  me  down  with 
your  ironical  flings.  That  may  be  very  amusing,  but 
it  seems  to  me  that  a  serious  question  like  this  demands 
serious  deliberation.  You  wash  your  hands  in  inno- 
cence, I  suppose!  I  am  to  bear  all  the  consequences 
alone.  What  do  you  really  mean  by  that?  Shall  I 
look  on  with  folded  hands  while  the  mother's  nature 
gradually  gains  the  supremacy  in  this  child  ? " 

"  The  mother  made  a  very  pleasing  impression  on 
me,  and  has  become  a  good  and  respectable  woman. 
The  father  seems  somewhat  more  doubtful.  He  may 
have  been  a  pretty  bad  sort  —  at  all  events  we  know 
nothing  to  the  contrary." 

"  In  any  case  he  certainly  was  not  given  to  reading 
penny-dreadfuls." 

"  But  she  surely  gets  her  liking  for  servant-girls 
from  him. —  But,  joking  aside,  haven't  you  perhaps 
neglected  to  provide  her  with  good  wholesome  read- 
ing?" 

tl  I  ?  I  have  given  her  the  choicest  classic  and  mod- 
ern works  —  but  those  weary  her,  of  course." 

"  Of  course !  "  repeated  the  consul  with  a  laugh. 
"  They  unusually  weary  half  grown  children  and  us 
grown  up  people  sometimes  as  well." 

"  You  to  be  sure,"  sneered  his  wife.  "  Nothing  can 
make  up  for  the  lack  of  a  classic  education.  That  is 
proved  by  you  in  the  most  convincing  manner,  my 
dear." 

"  You    are    extraordinarily    kind,    my    dearest ! " 


This  Cursed  Music  31 

Saying  which  the  consul  withdrew  his  hands  from 
his  trousers  pockets  an.d  thrust  them  for  a  change  into 
those  of  his  coat.  But  he  did  so  with  an  energy  which 
betrayed  a  wound  in  a  sensitive  spot.  He  thrust  out 
his  thick  under  lip  testily  and  strode  up  and  down 
several  times.  Then  he  stopped  in  front  of  his  wife 
and  said,  "We  shall  not  get  far  in  this  way  —  I'll 
speak  to  Thekla  myself." 

Frau  Olga  turned  up  her  nose.  "  Bravo !  You  have 
gradually  talked  yourself  into  just  the  right  state  of 
mind  to  make  a  tremendous  impression  on  the  young 
lady." 

"  I'll  leave  the  impression-making  all  to  you ;  that 
doesn't  belong  in  any  way  to  my  principles  of  educa- 
tion. I  love  the  child,  I  think  I  can  say,  as  much  as 
if  she  were  my  own.  I  hope  that  Thekla  feels  that, 
and  if  she  does  feel  it  she  will  listen  to  me.  But  please 
let  me  talk  to  her  alone." 

He  opened  the  door  and  allowed  his  wife  to  pass  out 
first. 

Thekla  Burmester  was  already  waiting  in  the  din- 
ing-room. As  her  parents  entered,  she  rose,  went  to 
meet  her  father,  and  gave  him  her  hand  in  an  uneasy 
and  embarrassed  manner.  He  reassured  her  by  giving 
it  a  hearty  squeeze.  She  looked  up  and  met  his  kindly 
eyes,  and  then  betook  herself  to  the  place  at  table  with 
a  little  sigh  of  relief. 

Nevertheless  the  supper  passed  off  in  a  somewhat 
subdued  atmosphere,  for  Frau  Burmester  sat  there,  stiff 
and  severe,  and  said  hardly  a  word,  and  the  consul  did 
not  care  to  touch  in  her  presence  on  the  subject  that 
weighed  upon  their  spirits.  The  meal  was  hurriedly 


32  Florian  Mayr 

got  through  with.  Then  the  servant  was  sent  to  light 
the  lamp  in  the  library  and  Thekla  rose  to  say  good- 
night to  her  parents. 

"  Just  a  moment  please,"  said  Herr  Burmester.  "  I 
wish  to  speak  to  you,  my  child.  Come  to  my  room  with 
me." 

Without  a  word  the  young  lady  followed  her  fat  lit- 
tle foster-father,  her  pretty  round  head  with  its  two 
luxuriant  dark  blond  braids  drooping  in  conscious  guilt, 
and  her  mouth  twitching  anxiously.  By  the  time  they 
had  entered  the  consul's  elegant  and  comfortable  study 
and  the  door  had  closed  behind  them,  the  big  child  was 
already  in  tears. 

The  consul  seated  himself  in  his  easy-chair  and  called 
Thekla  to  him.  Then  he  took  both  her  hands  in  his  and 
regarded  her  with  a  smile  of  compassion.  She  was 
eighteen  years  old,  rather  tall  and  exquisite  of  figure, 
slender  and  yet  gracefully  rounded.  She  wore  a  sim- 
ple skirt  of  brown  cloth  and  a  dark  blue  sailor  blouse, 
much  like  those  worn  by  boys,  held  at  the  waist  by  a 
leathern  belt.  Her  pretty  white  neck  flushed  and  her 
delicate  little  nose  twitched,  tears  rolled  down  her 
cheeks,  somewhat  paled  by  too  much  home  staying, 
while  others  threatened  to  fall  from  the  dark,  drooping 
lashes. 

Herr  Burmester  felt  his  own  heart  touched  when  he 
saw  the  child  weeping,  and  he  found  no  better  begin- 
ning to  his  fatherly  admonition  than  the  question, 

"  Was  mamma  really  so  very  severe  ?  " 

Thekla  nodded  vigorously  and  then  sobbed  out  with 
difficulty: 

"  Oh,  papa  —  I'm  really  not  —  so  bad !  She  said  I 
—  had  —  low  instincts!  The  most  terrible  —  crimi- 


This  Cursed  Music  33 

nals  —  all  began  that  way  —  reading  such  books  —  she 
said!" 

She  wiped  her  nose,  brushed  the  tears  away,  and 
continued  more  fluently. 

"  I  really  didn't  think  there  was  anything  so  bad 
about  it.  A  little  while  ago  I  went  to  call  Marie  for 
mamma  and  she  didn't  hear  me  at  all.  She  sat  in 
her  room  and  was  reading  The  Blood-Countess,  and 
when  I  called  her  she  excused  herself  because  she  hadn't 
heard  me,  and  said  The  Blood-Countess  was  so  awfully 
interesting  that  you  couldn't  leave  it  alone  if  you  once 
began  it.  And  then  I  said  she  must  lend  it  to  me,  be- 
cause I've  never  read  anything  as  interesting  as  that. 
I  only  began  it  this  evening,  because  I  didn't  have  to  go 
to  the  concert.  I  never  have  a  chance  any  other  time. 
And  it  was  really  just  as  exciting  as  Marie  said.  I 
didn't  notice  at  all  how  the  time  passed,  I  didn't  do 
anything  else  that  was  wrong.  And  that  isn't  any  low 
instinct,  is  it  ?  " 

The  consul  could  not  repress  a  smile.  "  Come  here, 
my  child,  and  sit  down  by  me;  we'll  have  a  sensible 
talk  together." 

She  dragged  a  chair  up  to  his  and  sat  down  in  front 
of  him,  her  hands  folded  in  her  lap.  Then  he  con- 
tinued : 

"  You  see,  Thekla,  in  the  first  place  it  is  hardly 
proper  for  the  daughter  of  the  house  to  borrow  any- 
thing of  the  servants;  and  secondly  a  young  lady  who 
has  had  the  benefit  of  a  polite  education  should  not  care 
for  backstairs  literature  of  that  kind,  for  that  shows 
very  bad  taste.  People  of  unstable  character  and  par- 
ticularly very  young  persons  are  really  very  easily 
spoiled  by  such  trashy  reading.  In  that  your  mother 


34  Florian  Mayr 

is  quite  right.  It  would  really  be  a  blessing  if  society 
could  be  protected  by  law  from  such  poisonous  and 
dangerous  stuff.  It's  a  mixture  of  terrible  secrets  and 
appalling  crimes,  and  the  criminals  are  all  made  ro- 
mantic heroes  of.  It  poisons  the  imagination  and  in- 
cites to  crime." 

"  But  papa,  you  don't  think  I  could  ever  do  any  of 
those  things  in  The  Blood-Countess!"  interrupted 
Thekla  in  distress. 

"  No,  dear  heart,  I  am  perfectly  willing  to  believe 
that  you  won't  overload  your  conscience  with  poisoning 
and  burglary,  but  your  idea  of  life  and  your  taste  will 
suffer,  I'm  sure,  and  that  is  bad  enough.  An  educated 
person  looks  for  truth  in  what  he  reads,  for  that  is 
wholesome,  and  for  beauty,  for  that  elevates  and  en- 
nobles. But  let  us  drop  the  subject  now.  You'll  prom- 
ise me,  won't  you,  to  withstand  in  future  the  temptation 
to  have  anything  to  do  with  such  stuff  ?  That's  right ! 
And  now  I'll  tell  you  what  I  think  worse  than  all  the 
silly  horrors  of  The  Blood-Countess.  Till  now  I  have 
always  found  you  frank  and  truthful,  my  child.  It 
would  grieve  me  deeply  if  you  should  begin  now  to 
walk  in  crooked  paths.  Xow  I  don't  think  it  was  right 
of  you  to-day  to  pretend  to  have  a  headache  so  as  to  be 
able  to  pore  over  your  blood-and-thunder  story  instead 
of  going  to  a  good  concert." 

"  But  papa,  I  did  really  have  a  headache,"  protested 
Thekla  eagerly.  "  When  I  practice  so  much  I  always 
get  a  headache,  and  when  I  sit  through  a  long  concert 
after  that  it  makes  me  perfectly  stupid." 

Herr  Burmester  looked  up  in  surprise.  He  had  not 
been  prepared  for  such  a  confession.  He  played  with 
the  tassels  on  the  chair  and  resumed  after  a  pause  of 


This  Cursed  Music  35 

some  duration,  "Why,  do  you  dislike  music  so  much 
as  that?  Don't  you  know  it's  mamma's  ambition  to 
make  a  fine  musician  of  you?  And  after  all,  even  if 
you  don't  have  to  earn  your  living  by  it,  it  is  always 
a  good  thing  for  a  young  lady  to  do  something  well  in 
some  field  or  other." 

"Yes,  papa,  and  I  would  like  to  do  that  too,"  re- 
plied Thekla.  "  I  would  so  like  to  learn  a  lot  and 
read  good  books  and  all  that.  All  the  girls  of  my 
acquaintance  know  much  more  than  I  do.  But  not  one 
of  them  has  to  practice  as  I  do.  I  really  don't  have 
time  for  anything  else.  I've  got  to  take  singing  les- 
sons too,  and  my  voice  is  as  thin  as  a  thread.  And 
practicing  on  the  piano  makes  me  so  awfully  tired;  I 
always  feel  utterly  worn  out  after  practicing.  The 
keys  all  keep  hammering  on  my  head,  so  that  I  often 
have  a  feeling  as  if  it  were  quite  soft,  as  if  I  only  had 
to  press  a  little  with  my  finger  to  bore  a  hole  in  it.  And 
at  night  I  dream  such  horrible  things.  Our  piano 
stands  there  like  a  big  black  cofiin,  and  then  the  top 
is  raised  a  little,  and  through  the  crack  creep  hun- 
dreds of  note-heads  with  arms  and  legs  on  them.  They 
all  have  hammers  on  their  backs  and  they  run  after 
me  and  try  to  strike  me.  Then  I  have  to  jump  out  of 
bed  in  my  night-gown  and  run  out  into  the  street  and 
run  and  run  in  the  black  night,  and  the  wind  shrieks 
so  terribly.  And  I  hear  all  the  notes  sounding  as  they 
run  after  me.  And  they  scream,  '  Don't  you  see  I've 
got  a  flat  in  front  of  me,  you  goose  ? '  And  another 
one  shrieks,  ( I'll  throw  my  sharp  at  your  head  if  you 
play  C-natural  again ! '  Oh,  darling  papa,  you  can't 
imagine  how  terrible  it  is!  Just  fancy,  the  notes  all 
have  the  voice  of  Herr  Mayr  when  they  scream  at  me. 


36  Florian  Mayr 

And  besides  Herr  Mayr  stands  behind  them  and  com- 
mands them  and  sets  them  onto  me !  I'm  so  afraid  of 
Herr  Mayr!" 

"  My  poor  child,  what  extraordinary  ideas !  "  ex- 
claimed the  consul  in  alarm.  He  rose,  drew  the  young 
girl  to  him,  and  stroked  her  thick  soft  hair.  For  some 
time  he  held  her  so  without  speaking.  Then  he  took 
her  head  in  both  hands,  kissed  her  on  forehead  and 
cheek,  and  said,  "  Go  to  bed  now,  my  pet,  and  don't 
excite  yourself  with  such  morbid  fancies.  I'll  have  a 
talk  with  mamma.  We  must  make  it  easier  for  you, 
I  can  see  that.  You  must  not  get  ill  on  account  of  that 
curs  —  I  mean  blessed  music !  " 

"  You're  so  good,  papa,  you'll  help  me,  won't  you  ?  " 
pleaded  Thekla.  Then  she  allowed  herself  to  be  pushed 
gently  out  of  the  room. 

As  soon  as  she  was  gone  Herr  Burmester  became  red 
in  his  face,  raised  both  hands  on  high,  and  spoke  in  a 
low  but  distinct  voice  the  word  he  had  suppressed  in 
Thekla's  presence: 

"  This  cursed  music !  "  During  the  few  minutes  in 
which  his  persecuted  and  frightened  child  was  crying 
herself  out  upon  his  shoulder  his  whole  life  passed  be- 
fore him  in  memory.  His  father  had  founded  the 
firm  in  Liibeck  and  gradually  raised  it  from  its  origi- 
nal modest  proportions  to  the  rank  of  one  of  the  most 
important  among  the  houses  of  world-wide  fame  in  his 
native  city.  But  Wilhelm  Burmester  cherished  but 
few  pleasant  memories  of  his  early  home.  A  foolish 
marriage  contracted  by  the  elder  Burmester  in  youth 
with  a  girl  of  no  very  gentle  character,  who  was  not  only 
commonplace  and  illbred  but  incapable  of  improvement, 
had  embittered  his  whole  life.  He  became  a  mere  beast 


This  Cursed  Music  37 

of  burden.  He  was  a  hard  master  and  a  strict  father. 
It  thus  came  to  pass  that  Wilhelm  Burmester  never  en- 
joyed the  best  part  of  a  good  bringing-up,  the  pure, 
peaceful,  sabbath  atmosphere  that  a  harmonious  married 
life  sheds  upon  home  and  family.  In  this  way,  he,  too, 
became  an  every-day  sort  of  man  and  a  mere  beast  of 
burden,  like  his  father. 

When  in  after  years  he  came  to  recognize  why  it 
was  that  no  real  happiness  could  be  looked  for  in  his 
father's  house,  he  promised  himself  to  avoid  a  hasty 
marriage  as  he  would  the  cholera.  But,  from  pure 
fear  of  allowing  himself  to  be  carried  away  by  his  feel- 
ings, all  capability  for  deep  feeling  died  in  him.  He 
was  an  old  young  man  and  had  become  a  power  in  the 
commercial  world  before  he  made  up  his  mind  to  enter 
into  a  marriage  of  reason  and  convenience.  To  pre- 
serve and  increase  the  prestige  which  his  wealth  and  the 
solidity  of  his  firm  gave  him,  he  needed  a  wife  chosen 
from^  the  really  best  circles,  who  was  a  mistress  of 
etiquette  and  who  possessed  enough  intelligence  to  make 
the  house  over  which  she  presided  the  resort  not  only  of 
the  usual  run  of  diners-out  but  of  cultivated  society. 
And  so  he  married  a  well-bred  young  lady,  no  longer 
young,  of  noble  family  but  poor.  There  was  no  ques- 
tion of  love  on  either  side;  but  he  considered  that  he 
was  entitled  to  her  eternal  gratitude  for  placing  her 
in  circumstances  where  she  could  develop  brilliantly 
her  social  talents  and  satisfy  her  penchant  for  a  life 
of  luxury.  His  wife  had  never  been  pretty,  but,  in 
spite  of  her  deep-set  eyes  and  extreme  gauntness,  she 
made  a  very  aristocratic  impression.  She  dressed  in 
excellent  taste  and  understood  so  well  how  to  get  such 
original  effects  out  of  the  arrangement  of  her  luxuriant, 


38  Florian  Mayr 

nearly  black  hair  that,  when  dressmaker  and  hair- 
dresser played  successfully  into  each  other's  hands,  she 
even  passed  for  rather  an  interesting  personality.  And 
after  all  what  right  had  he  to  expect  beauty  ?  He  was 
perfectly  conscious  of  being  a  very  uncomely,  fat  little 
fellow  himself.  All  in  all  he  was  quite  satisfied  with 
the  result  of  his  marriage,  as  long  as  he  still  lived  in 
Liibeck  actively  engaged  in  business.  After  five  years 
of  clever  manipulation,  however,  she  succeeded  in 
bringing  him  to  the  point  of  retiring  from  the  firm  in 
favor  of  a  nephew  who  had  long  shared  his  confidence, 
and  of  removing  to  Berlin  with  the  title  of  Consul  of 
Uruguay. 

She  certainly  understood  how  to  secure  a  firm  footing 
in  the  best  circles  of  the  capital  and  to  give  her  home, 
an  atmosphere  commensurate  with  their  position,  but 
the  consul  himself  was  the  victim  of  this  social  eleva- 
tion. The  musical  predilections  of  his  wife  were  the 
key  that  had  unlocked  for  them  the  doors  of  patrician 
society.  She  never  failed  to  attend  a  musical  function 
and  the  most  celebrated  virtuosi  shared  the  hospitality 
of  her  home.  In  this  way  she  attracted  society  to  her 
house.  And  the  poor  consul,  though  unmusical  to  an 
extreme  degree,  was  dragged  ruthlessly  from  concert 
to  concert,  and  was  forced  to  bow  down  before  all  kinds 
of  music  folk  of  both  sexes,  no  matter  how  stupid  or 
vain  they  might  be;  to  affect  enthusiasm  where  his 
only  feeling  was  one  of  yawning  ennui;  and  to  make 
friends  with  people  with  whom  he  had  absolutely  noth- 
ing in  common.  As  he  had  nothing  whatever  to  do,  it 
was  impossible  to  find  an  adequate  excuse  for  shirking 
the  duties  with  which  his  wife  weighted  him  down, 
and  when  once  in  a  while,  in  a  fit  of  desperation,  he  did 


This  Cursed  Music  39 

cross  the  dead  line  of  social  routine,  she  punished  him 
with  cold  contempt,  and  made  him  feel  that  he  had 
ceased  to  be  a  factor  in  her  scheme  of  existence.  It  fol- 
lowed that,  as  he  shunned  the  ridiculous  role  of  a  marital 
zero,  and  did  not  care  to  be  taken  for  a  simpleton,  he 
took  up  his  burden  of  martyrdom  again  and  went  on 
playing  the  hypocrite,  as  his  wife  demanded. 

It  was  at  the  time  of  their  removal  to  Berlin  that 
they  had  adopted  the  orphan  girl.  Thekla  was  thought 
in  society  to  be  a  legitimate  daughter  of  the  house. 
Heir  Burmester  did  not  contradict  this  supposition, 
for  he  was  proud  of  the  comely  girl,  and  loved  her  for 
her  simplicity  and  goodness  of  heart.  The  child  had 
become  his  very  own  through  love  and  he  gloried  in 
his  fatherhood.  She  should  not  be  haled  along  that 
road  of  thorns  over  which  he  had  dragged  his  tired 
and  heavy  limbs.  Her  plaintive  lament  had  fright- 
ened him  out  of  his  indolent  indifference.  The  child 
was  right;  he  knew  exactly  how  she  felt.  Why  of 
course!  It  can't  help  making  one  stupid  and  dull. 
And  the  consul  clinched  his  fist  again  and  hissed 
through  his  teeth, 

"  This  cursed  music !  " 


CHAPTER  III 
Herr  Mayr  Forgets  Himself 

THE  next  morning  brought  to  Fran  Burmester  a  great 
surprise.  She  had  always  regarded  her  husband  as 
an  early  riser,  for  he  rose  every  day  punctually  at  eight 
o'clock,  however  late  he  might  have  been  up  the  night 
before,  whereas  her  ladyship's  rising  hour  was,  accord- 
ing to  the  state  of  her  nerves,  anywhere  from  nine  till 
noon.  To-day  she  had  had  her  cocoa, —  she  always 
used  nourishing  beverages,  not  having  as  yet  relin- 
quished the  hope  of  growing  stouter,  —  at  nine  o'clock, 
intending,  however,  to  counteract  the  possible  evil  effects 
of  last  night's  excitement  by  lying  abed  an  hour  or  two 
longer. 

Just  as  she  was  moistening  her  lips  with  a  dainty 
napkin  to  remove  the  traces  of  cocoa  and  a  soft  egg, 
her  husband  entered,  fully  equipped  for  the  street,  and 
announced  his  intention  of  taking  an  extended  walk  in 
the  Thiergarten  in  Thekla's  company. 

"  Thekla  can't  go  with  you  to-day,"  replied  his  wife 
coldly,  as  she  readjusted  the  pillow,  with  which  she 
had  propped  herself  up  for  breakfasting  purposes,  and 
stretched  herself  at  full  length  in  the  bed.  "  You  have 
forgotten,  dear  Willy,  that  at  eleven  o'clock  Herr  Mayr 
is  coming  to  give  her  a  music  lesson." 

"  We  shall  be  back  by  eleven." 

"  But  you  know  very  well  that  Thekla  has  to  prac- 
tice finger  exercises  for  an  hour  before  she  takes  her 

40 


Herr  Mayr  Forgets  Himself  41 

lesson.  What  can  Herr  Mayr  do  with  her  if  she  comes 
to  the  piano  with  stiff  fingers  ? " 

"  I  don't  care  anything  about  that,"  retorted  the 
consul  with  unwonted  decision.  "  It's  my  opinion 
the  girl  will  go  to  her  tasks  fresher  and  more  collected 
if  she  doesn't  tire  herself  out  beforehand.  Besides  I 
don't  care  anything  about  that  either.  What  difference 
does  it  make  whether  Thekla  plays  the  piano  better 
or  worse  to-day  or  any  other  day  ?  The  main  thing  is 
to  look  after  her  health  and  see  that  she  isn't  pushed 
too  hard." 

"  Good  gracious,  what  sort  of  way  is  that  to  talk  ? " 
cried  Frau  Olga  in  wide-eyed  astonishment,  raising  her- 
self in  bed  with  a  sudden  jerk.  "  I  thought  it  was 
understood  between  us  that  her  artistic  education  was 
to  be  left  entirely  to  me." 

"  Oh,  bah !  artistic  education !  That's  a  fool  phrase !  " 
growled  the  consul  angrily.  "  When  one  party  to  a 
marriage  contract  treats  the  child  unreasonably  and  the 
other  party  perceives  it,  it  becomes  his  duty,  damme, 
to  resist  the  first  party  and  to  the  best  of  his  ability 
see  to  it  that  no  serious  harm  is  dona  It  was  wrong 
of  me  not  to  trouble  myself  more  about  Thekla's  edu- 
cation. N~ow  I'm  going  to  try  to  make  up  for  it.  So 
I  bid  you  good  morning,  my  dear  Olga !  " 

The  little  man  waved  his  hat  imperiously  in  the 
direction  of  his  wife  and,  before  her  indignation  could 
finds  words,  hastily  left  the  room.  She  had  a  great 
mind  to  spring  out  of  bed,  throw  on  a  wrapper,  run 
after  her  rebellious  husband,  and,  if  possible,  tear 
Thekla  from  him  before  they  could  get  safely  outside  the 
door,  but  the  thought  of  making  herself  ridiculous  in 
the  eyes  of  the  servants  by  a  scene  of  that  sort  restrained 


42  Florian  Mayr 

her.  Reaching  out  for  the  knob  of  the  electric  bell 
which  hung  at  her  head,  she  pressed  the  white  button 
furiously  and  as  the  maid  did  not  appear  instantly 
she  continued  to  ring,  scarcely  pausing  for  a  second 
in  her  excitement. 

Marie  came  rushing  in  in  a  great  fright,  bringing 
a  wet  cloth,  for  she  was  sure  her  mistress  must  have 
spilled  the  cocoa  over  the  satin  coverlet. 

"  Call  my  daughter  back,  I  wish  to  speak  to  her," 
shrieked  Frau  Burmester,  before  the  maid  had  a  chance 
to  ask  what  was  wanted. 

"  Fraulein  Thekla  has  been  gone  some  time,"  re- 
plied Marie.  "  She  went  out  first  and  waited  for 
master  outside." 

It  cost  the  lady  no  little  effort  to  restrain  an  ex- 
plosion of  wrath  in  the  presence  of  the  maid.  She 
bade  Marie  remove  the  breakfast  things.  When  she 
was  alone  she  laid  about  her  in  a  rage,  gesticulating 
wildly,  and  the  way  she  laughed  was  not  exactly  ami- 
abla  "It's  incredible!  This  fat  little  Willy  Bur- 
mester! All  of  a  sudden  starting  up  to  play  a  part! 
Makes  Thekla  rebel  against  me !  Who  would  have 
believed  it?  But  they're  afraid  of  me  all  the  same, 
both  of  them,  the  heroes !  He  runs  away  without  giv- 
ing me  a  chance  to  speak  and  she  runs  off  down  the 
street  so  that  I  shan't  bring  her  back.  Just  wait !  I 
don't  think  they'll  play  such  tricks  very  often.  It's 
really  too  bad!  I'd. scarcely  slept  off  the  excitement 
of  last  night  a  little  and  here  they  have  to  worry  me 
sick  again  in  the  early  morning !  " 

The  morning  nap  was  now  out  of  the  question. 
After  all  it  was  better  to  get  up  at  once  and  courage- 
ously face  the  world  in  its  early  morning  aspect  and 


Herr  Mayr  Forgets  Himself          43 

see  how  the  peaceful  home  looked  after  the  declaration 
of  war. 

Promptly,  as  usual,  at  eleven  o'clock  Herr  Florian 
Mayr  appeared  for  the  music  lesson.  Frau  Burmes- 
ter  received  him  in  the  drawing-room. 

"  I  regret  deeply,  my  dear  Herr  Mayr,  that  you  will 
have  to  wait  a  moment,"  she  said  as  she  rustled  to- 
wards him  in  her  costly,  heavy  morning  gown.  "  My 
husband  has  run  off  with  our  Thekla.  He  claims  that 
it  is  better  for  the  health  to  take  a  walk  than  to  practice 
the  piano." 

"  There's  no  doubt  about  it  whatever,  he's  quite 
right,"  broke  in  Florian  Mayr  laughing,  as  he  com- 
plied with  her  mute  invitation  to  be  seated. 

Frau  Burmester  placed  herself  opposite  him  on  the 
sofa  and  went  on  without  noticing  his  interruption! 
"  My  husband,  I'm  sorry  to  say,  is  not  musical  enough 
to  be  able  to  assist  me  in  the  artistic  education  of  our 
daughter.  Why,  actually,  like  the  business  man  that 
he  once  was,  he  is  accustomed  to  look  upon  the  arts  as 
agreeable  but  idle  superfluities  —  that  is,  so  long  as  one 
doesn't  make  a  living  by  them.  It  is  impossible  for 
him  to  perceive  that  even  the  dilettante  who  intends  to 
accomplish  anything  worth  while  must  work  with  ear- 
nestness and  determination.  You  can  easily  understand 
that  my  daughter  is  most  ready  to  follow  that  one  of  us 
who  promises  to  make  life  easiest  for  her.  In  a  young 
girl  that  is  natural.  But  I  am  very  glad  of  this  op- 
portunity, my  dear  Herr  Mayr,  to  speak  with  you  alone. 
I  have  long  wanted  to  urge  you  to  treat  my  daughter 
with  proper  severity.  She  is  too  apt  to  let  herself  go  if 
she  is  not  held  strictly  to  account.  So  please  pay  no 
heed  to  the  fact  that  she  is  a  young  girl  of  good  family, 


44  Florian  Mayr 

who  is  not  obliged  to  do  this,  but  simply  treat  her  like 
any  other  pupil,  who  is  under  the  necessity  of  achiev- 
ing something  and  who  must  therefore  be  kept  more 
firmly  in  hand  than  those  who  are  perhaps  more  indus- 
trious by  nature  or  who  learn  more  readily.  Will  you 
promise  me  this  ?  " 

The  pianist  did  not  reply  at  once.  He  smiled  quietly 
and  regarded  his  long  bony  fingers.  At  last  he  spoke : 
"  Do  you  know,  madam,  this  is  the  first  time  I  have 
ever  been  asked  to  be  more  strict?  In  fact  I  am  gen- 
erally known  as  a  regular  brute  and  it's  pretty  much  the 
same  to  me  whether  I'm  dealing  with  a  fine  young  lady 
or  a  stupid  boy.  If  I  find  talent  in  a  pupil,  I  take  the 
matter  seriously  and  demand  the  greatest  application. 
But  now  that  we're  on  the  subject,  I'm  really  sorry  for 
your  daughter." 

"  How  so  ?     What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Well,  to  be  frank,  in  my  opinion  the  young  lady 
hasn't  enough  talent  to  bear  my  sharpest  key.  I  think 
the  consul  is  right.  Let  her  take  her  walks  and  never 
play  the  piano  any  longer  than  she  wants  to.  She  won't 
get  much  further  than  she  is  now  any  way  and  even  if 
she  did  —  it  won't  amount  to  anything  much  at  best" 

Frau  Burmester  stiffened  up  and  looked  much  an- 
noyed. With  a  forced  smile  she  replied :  "  Oh,  Herr 
Mayr,  it  seems  to  me  you  go  too  far.  Thekla  is  so 
young,  her  character  is  still  too  undeveloped  to  —  Be- 
sides you,  too,  are  still  young;  I  don't  know  but  you 
judge  somewhat  too  hastily.  You  will  pardon  me, —  I 
believe  experience  may  in  the  future  teach  you  that  even 
in  art  talent  and  temperament  are  not  the  only  final 
tests  and  that  unremitting  industry  and  earnest  applica- 
tion can  make  up  for  much." 


Herr  Mayr  Forgets  Himself  45 

"  Well,  madam,  if  you  think  I  don't  know  anything 
about  that  — " 

"  Pardon  me,  Herr  Mayr,"  interrupted  Frau  Bur- 
mester,  rising  quickly.  "  I  hear  steps  outside,  I  think 
they  have  returned,  excuse  me."  She  bent  her  head 
slightly  towards  him  and  rushed  out  of  the  door. 

Florian  Mayr  remained  alone.  With  a  superior 
smile  he  looked  after  the  lady  of  the  house  and  then 
with  his  forefinger  traced  upon  his  high  forehead  a 
significant  cross.  In  the  next  room  he  heard  excited 
whispers.  He  gave  a  short  laugh ;  then,  seating  himself 
at  the  piano,  he  opened  it  and  in  long  drawn  chords  be- 
gan to  improvise.  A  few  minutes  later  Thekla  entered. 
He  pretended  not  to  notice  her  and  dashed  into  one  of 
the  most  difficult  of  Liszt's  etudes  which  just  at  that 
time  he  was  studying.  Thekla  stood  a  few  paces  be- 
hind him  and  listened.  Suddenly  he  wheeled  about 
on  the  piano-stool  and  with  kindly  good  nature  laughed 
in  her  face :  "  Well,  Fraulein,  so  there  you  are." 

She  began  to  make  excuses  but  he  stopped  her  short. 
"  Know  all  about  it.  IsTow  we  shall  see  for  once  how 
you  can  play  the  piano  when  you  have  red  cheeks. 
I've  never  seen  you  with  red  cheeks  before,  Fraulein 
Burmester."  He  resigned  his  seat  to  her  and  drew  up 
a  chair.  The  red  on  Thekla's  cheeks  deepened.  She 
never  could  quite  make  out  what  Herr  Mayr  meant. 
It  all  sounded  so  ironical.  Was  he  angry,  too,  like 
her  mother,  who  had  just  treated  her  to  a  curtain  lec- 
ture condensed  in  whispers?  She  brought  out  her 
music,  laid  it  on  the  rack,  and  adjusted  the  piano-stool. 
Herr  Mayr  stood  beside  her  with  folded  arms,  gazing 
steadily  at  her  with  an  ironical  smile.  She  did  not 
know  which  way  to  look.  She  sat  down,  her  heart  beat- 


46  Florian  Mayr 

ing  fast,  took  off  her  rings,  smoothed  her  skirt  over 
her  lap,  and  at  last  said  very  shyly :  "  Oh,  Herr 
Mayr!" 

"  What's  the  matter  ?     Don't  you  feel  well  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  thank  you.  But  I  shall  never  learn  to  play 
like  you." 

"  Right  you  are,"  he  laughed.  "  So  let's  begin. 
Play  as  badly  as  you  like.  I'll  do  my  part  later." 
And  again  he  laughed  ambiguously. 

She  began  to  play  a  mazourka  of  Chopin,  timidly, 
colorless  in  expression,  uncertain  in  time,  badly  phrased, 
and  constantly  striking  false  notes,  especially  in  the 
bass.  What  was  the  meaning  of  this  ?  Perhaps  Herr 
Mayr  was  not  paying  attention,  l^ever  before  had  he 
allowed  the  slightest  slip  to  pass  without  shouting  at 
her.  She  ventured  to  glance  furtively  around  at  him. 
Good  gracious!  There  he  still  sat,  smiling  roguishly, 
with  such  a  funny  expression  in  his  small  brown  eyes. 

This  was  really  the  first  time  that  Florian  had  ever 
observed  his  pupil  with  close  attention.  These  wellbred 
maidens  of  good  family  whom  he  instructed  for  from 
five  to  ten  marks  an  hour  had  always  been  objects  of 
complete  indifference  to  him.  They  had  no  charm  for 
him  because  he  had  never  been  able  to  discover  behind 
their  soft  smooth  little  masks  any  individuality  at  all. 
Consequently  he  simply  divided  these  estimable  young 
daughters  of  the  well-to-do  into  three  classes :  piano 
geese,  singing  geese,  and  painting  geese.  That  was 
the  end  of  them  for  him.  But  since  his  talk  with  Frau 
Bunnester  this  little  maiden  suddenly  appeared  to  him 
in  a  new  light.  Here  was  the  unfortunate  victim  of 
a  mother's  misdirected  zeal  and  he  could  not  help  think- 
ing how  only  a  few  days  ago  out  of  pure  whim  and 


Herr  Mayr  Forgets  Himself  47 

impatience  he  had  promised  his  wishy-washy  Polish  as- 
sociate, Prositlaus,  to  let  him  have  this  poor  little 
sacrificial  lamb  as  easy  prey.  The  girl  was  really  very 
pretty.  There  was  something  touching  about  her  tender 
beauty  enhanced  by  the  striking  contrast  between  her 
almost  ripe  buxom  young  womanhood  and  her  child- 
like expression  of  worry  and  timidity.  Why  should 
the  poor  thing  have  to  play  the  piano,  he  thought  to 
himself.  If  she  sleeps  well  and  has  a  good  digestion 
and  goes  for  her  walks  and  gets  red  cheeks,  why  then 
she  will  be  something  delightful  to  look  upon.  And 
to  pass  peacefully  through  the  world  an  edifying  sight 
for  harassed  humanity,  that  of  itself  is  not  an  unworthy 
mission  in  life. 

Thekla  had  finished  her  mazourka.  She  let  her 
hands  fall  into  her  lap  and  with  a  look  of  anxious  in- 
quiry glanced  shyly  around  at  her  stern  teacher. 

Florian  Mayr  shook  his  smooth  mane,  scratched  him- 
self whimsically  behind  the  ear,  and  said :  "  Well, 
Fraulein  Burmester,  I  suppose  I've  got  to  say  some- 
thing. It  was  abominably  bad."  He  put  his  hand 
upon  her  arm,  pushed  her  energetically  from  the  piano- 
stool,  and  taking  her  place,  played  the  mazourka 
through  for  her.  That  of  course  sounded  quite  dif- 
ferent, free  in  tempo  but  strict  in  rhythm.  One  could 
actually  hear  the  beat  of  the  boots  with  their  clinking 
spurs  and  the  marvelously  graceful  and  piquante 
Chopinesque  fioriture  dropped  lightly  from  his  fingers 
like  pearls  or  tripped  like  many-colored  mottos  over 
the  flowing,  glistening  ribbon  of  the  melody. 

"  That's  the  way  that  thing  sounds,"  he  said  severely 
when  he  had  finished.  Then  he  made  place  for  her 
again.  He  was  no  longer  smiling.  In  playing  that 


48  Florian  Mayr 

deep  earnestness  with  which  he  treated  everything  re- 
lating to  his  art  had  come  upon  him  again. 

Thekla  drew  a  deep  sigh.  Then,  summoning  all  her 
courage,  she  attacked  the  keys  with  energy.  Alas! 
Two  false  notes  in  the  first  chord.  Herr  Mayr  cried 
out  in  pain.  But  Thekla  was  not  to  be  driven  out  of 
her  dare-devil  mood.  Away  she  thundered,  treading 
the  pedal  as  if  it  were  a  helpless  old  cur  and  she  a  bad 
old  man  venting  his  evil  humors  upon  it.  Faster  and 
faster  grew  the  tempo,  the  phrasing  more  obscured,  the 
outrageous  mistakes  more  and  more  frequent. 

"  Wrong !  C-sharp !  Damnation !  Piano !  Thunder 
and  lightning!  Now  crescendo!  My  God!  Stop, 
stop !  You're  making  a  beastly  mess  of  it."  But  let 
the  fierce  Herr  Florian  shout  and  rage  as  he  would, 
Fraulein  Thekla  was  not  to  be  stopped.  Fraulein 
Thekla  had  gone  mad. 

Now  Herr  Mayr  was  angry  in  earnest.  Was  she 
making  game  of  him,  the  silly  fool?  She  had  better 
drop  that  sort  of  thing.  "  Stop !  "  he  roared  again. 
"Or  I'll— " 

She  did  not  hear  him;  she  banged  away.  Her 
delicate  nostrils  were  distended,  her  breath  came  fast, 
her  cheeks  faded  from  deep  red  to  white. 

But  Florian's  patience  was  now  exhausted  and  — 
biff !  —  there  was  a  slap  on  her  left  hand  that  fairly 
burned. 

With  a  little  frightened  cry  Thekla  swung  round; 
she  rubbed  her  left  hand  with  her  right  and  gazed  in 
terror  at  her  enraged  teacher. 

The  shameless  fellow  bent  over  her,  his  teeth  set, 
and  with  a  "  piff,  paff,  take  that !  "  his  hard  bony  well- 


Herr  Mayr  Forgets  Himself  49 

directed  paws  descended  with  a  rush  upon  her  warm 
soft  little  paddies. 

Poor  frightened  Thekla  in  her  first  surprise  did  not 
seem  to  comprehend  that  she  was  being  struck.  Not 
until  she  had  received  a  good  half-dozen  blows,  did  she 
awake  from  her  stupefaction.  She  sprang  to  her  feet 
and  ran  to  the  door,  sobbing  aloud.  "  Papa,  papa," 
she  cried.  "  Herr  Mayr  is  striking  me !  " 

It  was  now  Master  Florian's  turn  to  open  his  eyes 
in  astonishment.  It  was  of  a  sudden  borne  in  upon 
him  that  he  had  behaved  in  a  most  unseemly  manner. 
He,  too,  sprang  up  and,  running  after  the  weeping  girl, 
tried  to  soothe  her,  to  beg  her  pardon,  or  even  to 
scold  her  for  crying  so  childishly. 

Thekla  probably  thought  that  he  was  going  to  strike 
her  again,  for  she  gave  a  shrill  cry  of  terror  and  rushed 
out  of  the  room. 

At  the  same  moment  the  consul  summoned  by  his 
daughter's  clamor  reached  the  door  of  the  drawing-room 
and,  close  upon  his  heels,  came  his  wife,  her  face  red 
and  her  eyes  snapping,  for  the  girl's  cries  for  help  had 
interrupted  her  in  the  midst  of  a  bitter  altercation 
with  her  husband.  Thekla  took  refuge  on  her  father's 
breast,  threw  both  arms  about  his  neck,  and,  sobbing 
loudly,  uttered  once  more  her  indignant  complaint: 
"  Papa,  Herr  Mayr  struck  me !  " 

"  What's  that  ?  I  must  have  misunderstood,"  stut- 
tered the  little  man  in  confusion  as  he  pushed  Thekla 
gently  aside  and  stepped  across  the  threshold.  His 
shiny  bald  head  became  for  a  moment  a  dark  red  and 
he  looked  up  menacingly  at  the  tall  thin  piano  teacher 
who  stood  close  before  him,  his  head  bowed  with  shame. 


50  Florian  Mayr 

"  Answer  me,  Herr  Mayr,  did  you  really  forget  your- 
self so  far  as  — " 

"  I  can  only  beg  you  to  forgive  me,  sir,"  stammered 
Mayr  in  confusion,  running  the  fingers  now  of  one  hand 
now  of  the  other  through  his  hair.  "  Please  don't  be 
offended.  I  don't  know  how  it  was  myself;  my  hand 
must  have  slipped  or  something;  it  was  only  a  slap  or 
two  as  we  say." 

Behind  her  father's  back  Thekla  held  out  her  red 
swollen  hands  to  her  mother  and  before  the  consul's 
indignation  could  find  further  words,  Frau  Burmester 
crossed  the  threshold  and  cried :  "  Is  it  possible ! 
You  have  dared  to  lay  hands  upon  my  child  ? " 

Herr  Mayr  looked  up  and  answered  defiantly :  "  Oh, 
it's  you,  is  it,  madam?  It  was  your  own  wish  that  I 
should  treat  your  daughter  with  the  utmost  severity. 
If  you  are  not  suited — " 

"  What,  Olga?  Did  you  tell  him  that?  "  and  Herr 
Burmester  turned  upon  his  wife  in  an  outburst  of 
wrath. 

The  lady  forgot  herself.  "I?"  she  screeched. 
"  Better  and  better !  By  this  time  I  suppose  I'm  to 
blame  for  everything."  And  turning  to  Herr  Mayr: 
"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  I  gave  you  permission  to 
maltreat  my  child  ?  " 

"  No  one  maltreats  the  child  but  you  yourself," 
burst  out  Herr  Mayr.  "  Yes,  and  I  want  you  to  know 
it.  I  wanted  to  tell  you  so  before.  It's  a  sin,  an  out- 
rageous crime,  the  way  you  persecute  your  daughter 
with  this  piano  playing.  The  girl  doesn't  want  to 
play  and  she  hasn't  any  talent.  She's  just  about  as 
musical  as  my  boot  here.  Let  her  go  walking  and  get 
red  cheeks ;  that's  much  more  sensible.  A  good,  pretty, 


Herr  Mayr  Forgets  Himself  51 

attractive  girl  has  a  lot  of  things  to  learn  that'll  do  her 
a  great  deal  more  good.  Why  should  she  be  compelled 
to  bungle  art  ?  Now  you've  got  my  opinion." 

"  We  haven't  asked  your  opinion,"  cried  Frau  Bur- 
mester  in  a  rage.  "  And  if  you  don't  know  how  to 
behave  yourself  in  respectable  houses  —  " 

"  Yes, —  of  course,"  interrupted  her  husband.  "  I'll 
pay  your  stipend  for  the  last  month  and  then  I  must 
request  you  —  "  He  pointed  towards  the  door. 

"  Certainly, — of  course,"  agreed  Herr  Mayr,  nod- 
ding assent.  At  the  same  time  his  glance  passed  over 
the  head  of  the  little  man  and  he  fastened  his  brown 
eyes  full  of  sympathy  upon  Thekla  who  during  the 
altercation  had  crept  into  a  remote  corner  of  the  salon 
and  there  sat  awaiting  with  curious  anxiety  the  out- 
come of  the  scene. 

"  Yes, —  and  —  of  course  we  shall  engage  another 
teacher,"  added  the  consul  somewhat  hesitatingly. 

"  No,  sir,  I  beg  your  pardon,  that's  by  no  means 
a  matter  of  course,"  retorted  Herr  Mayr.  "  In  fact 
that  is  totally  barred." 

"What,  you  take  the  liberty  —  " 

"  Yes,  I  take  the  liberty."  With  three  long  strides 
Master  Florian  was  at  Thekla's  side  and  seizing  her 
hands  so  quickly  that  she  had  no  time  to  prevent  him 
he  held  them  both  in  his  own  powerful  left  and  stroked 
them  gently  with  his  right.  "My  poor  dear  young 
lady,  please,  please,  don't  be  angry  with  me  any  longer. 
You  see,  you  drove  me  fairly  wild  with  your  miserable, 
murderous,  beastly  playing ;  but  I  behaved  like  a  brute. 
Please  make  up  with  me.  I  promise  you  solemnly  and 
cross  my  heart :  I'll  watch  over  you  and  see  to  it  that 
nothing  so  low-down  as  a  music  teacher  ever  dares 


52  Florian  Mayr 

come  near  you  again.  So  long  as  I'm  on  hand,  you'll 
never  have  to  take  another  piano  lesson,  sure  as  my 
name  is  Florian  Mayr." 

"  Oh,"  sighed  Thekla  softly.  Still  half  in  doubt, 
half  in  childlike  trust,  she  raised  her  large  eyes  to  her 
stern  master  and  a  charming  smile  flitted  across  her 
tearstained  face.  She  resisted  no  longer  but  al- 
lowed him  to  hold  her  hands  which  he  stroked  and 


"  Let  my  daughter  alone !  I  forbid  you  to  touch 
my  child !  "  cried  the  consul's  lank  consort,  striding 
with  royal  mien  towards  the  pair  and  thrusting  her 
hand  imperiously  between  them, 

The  consul  clinched  his  fist,  shook  his  head,  and 
laughed  ironically :  "  Well,  now,  see  here,  Herr  Mayr, 
I'm  really  a  bit  curious  to  know  how  you  would  do 
that  You  would  prevent  us  from  having  our  daugh- 
ter take  music  lessons?  Ha,  ha,  ha,  that's  altogether 
too  good !  " 

Florian  whirled  about  on  his  heel  and  laughed  be- 
nignly in  the  consul's  face.  "  That's  a  fact,  ha,  ha,  it 
is  good,  why  it's  great!  And  my  advice  to  you  is, 
don't  try  it.  I'm  sure  to  hear  of  it  if  you  let  any  re- 
spected colleague  of  mine  into  your  house  with  a  view 
to  having  him  give  lessons.  I  shall  lie  in  wait  and 
when  I  catch  him  I'll  give  him  such  a  drubbing  that 
he'll  have  to  go  and  thank  you  for  it  —  and  if  it  were 
a  professor  from  the  High  School  —  ha,  ha !  In  that 
case  I  should  take  great  satisfaction.  Sir,  I  have  the 
honor.  Madam,  I  wish  you  a  very  good  day.  Tell 
me,  Fraulein  Thekla,  you're  not  angry  with  me  now, 
are  you  ? " 

"  Oh,  no,  indeed,  Herr  Mayr." 


Herr  Mayr  Forgets  Himself  53 

And  with  a  comprehensive  though  somewhat  awk- 
ward bow,  Master  Florian  marched  out  of  the  room. 

Herr  and  Frau  Burmester  stared  at  each  other 
speechless.  Thekla  was  radiant. 

As  usual  a  half  dozen  bounds  brought  Florian  Mayr 
to  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  Outside  the  street  door,  he 
stopped  to  breathe  a  moment.  The  incident  had  ex- 
cited him  a  little  after  all.  The  poor  girl!  Lord 
above!  The  fool  parents  plagued  her  absurdly  with 
things  for  which  she  was  in  no  way  fitted  and  on  top 
of  all  that  he  had  beaten  her !  "  God  knows,  I  am 
a  brute !  "  he  growled  to  himself  half  aloud.  He  gave 
his  silk  hat  a  push  that  tipped  it  a  little  forward  and 
lent  it  a  melancholy  air.  Then  he  stalked  down  the 
street.  On  the  stand  of  a  delicatessen  shop  he  noticed 
some  fresh  oranges,  a  rarity  at  this  season  of  the  year. 
He  went  in  and  demanded  half  a  dozen.  They  were 
very  dear.  He  swore  but  he  bought  them.  Then  he 
went  on  and  turned  into  the  Jagerstrasse.  At  Treu  & 
Nuglisch's  he  stopped  again,  gave  his  hat  a  flip  in  front 
so  that  it  sat  on  the  back  of  his  head  and  once  more 
denounced  himself  for  a  brute.  Thereupon  he  entered 
the  shop  and  purchased  a  flask  of  fine  perfume.  He 
now  retraced  his  steps  to  the  Markgrafenstrasse  and 
the  house  of  Consul  Burmester.  He  mounted  the 
stairs  four  steps  at  a  time  and  rang  the  bell  as  humbly 
as  any  beggar.  The  servant  opened. 

"  Look  here,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  Mayr  in  a  mys- 
terious whisper.  "  Will  you  just  do  me  the  favor  to 
call  the  maid?  I've  something  to  say  to  her  in  con- 
fidence." 

Fritz  grinned  and  departed  and,  sure  enough,  in  a 
little  while  Marie  appeared.  In  the  meantime  Florian 


54  Plorian  Mayr 

not  without  a  gentle  sigh  had  extracted  a  thaler  from  his 
purse.  With  this  in  his  hand  to  give  her  confidence 
he  beckoned :  "  I  say,  Marie,  pst !  " 

"  Oh,  Herr  Mayr,  no,  is  it  really  you  2  " 

"  Pst !  Look  here,  if  you'll  give  these  things  to 
Fraulein  Thekla  without  letting  her  father  and  mother 
know,  this  thaler  is  yours.  Understand  ? "  With 
these  words  he  deposited  first  of  all  the  thaler,  then  the 
bag  of  oranges,  and  finally  the  bottle  of  perfumery  in 
the  hands  of  the  maid. 

"  But,  Herr  Mayr,  I  don't  really  know  — " 

"  Give  me  back  the  thaler,  you  —  you,  lambkin, 
you!" 

"  All  right,  all  right,  I'll  'tend  to  it,"  snickered  the 
maid.  "  Is  there  any  message  2  " 

"  A  right  hearty  greeting,  that's  all.  And  —  you 
— .listen,  Marie.  If  they  get  a  new  music  teacher,  you 
just  let  me  know  right  away,  will  you  ?  Fraulein 
Thekla  knows  my  address.  You'll  be  no  worse  off  for 
it.  Understand  ? " 

"  Why,  of  course,  Herr  Mayr." 

"  That's  all  right;  so  that's  settled.  A  right  hearty 
greeting."  He  nodded  to  the  girl,  winked  knowingly, 
and  took  himself  off. 

It  occurred  to  him  on  the  way  home  that  he  had 
promised  his  Polish  friend  a  position  in  Consul  Bur- 
mester's  house.  Florian  was  a  scrupulously  conscien- 
tious man.  What  he  had  promised  he  was  accustomed 
faithfully  to  fulfill.  But  in  this  case  he  did  not  stop 
to  think  very  long.  He  decided  to  break  his  word  and 
at  once  gave  himself  absolution  in  the  reflection  that 
it  would  only  be  driving  out  Satan  with  Beelzebub  if 
he  should  give  this  poor  good  stupid  child,  instead  of  a 


Herr  Mayr  Forgets  Himself  55 

teacher  who  only  beat  her,  one  who  even  wanted  to 
marry  her.  "  She  may  be  a  goose,"  he  meditated,  "  but 
for  the  noble  Pan  Prositlaus  I  think  after  all  she  is 
too  good.  I'll  look  about  in  military  circles;  perhaps 
I  can  find  a  lieutenant — " 

He  went  home  and  wrote  a  postal  card  to  Herr  An- 
tonine  Prczewalski,  composer,  informing  him  that  un- 
fortunately he  was  unable  to  recommend  him  to  Consul 
Burmester  because  Fraulein  Burmester  was  not  going 
to  take  music  lessons  any  longer.  Conscious  of  having 
done  a  good  deed,  he  fell  into  a  sunny  philanthropic 
mood.  He  lighted  a  cigar  and  paid  Frau  Stoltenhagen 
a  visit  in  the  kitchen. 

"  Well,  my  good  woman,  how  do  you  do  to-day  ? " 
he  inquired  most  affably.  "  Doing  well  ?  Really  ? 
Why,  I'm  glad.  You've  seemed  to  me  so  depressed  of 
late.  Yes,  yes,  to  be  sure,  a  little  piece  of  paper  like 
that  does  tear  so  easily.  Why,  what's  the  matter  ?  You 
are  quite  flushed.  Let  me  recommend  Mayr's  health 
coffee;  it  is  excellent  for  that  sort  of  congestion.  A 
good  conscience  and  normal  digestion,  that's  what  main- 
tains the  equilibrium  of  body  and  soul.  Fix  that 
firmly  in  your  mind,  Frau  Stoltenhagen,  and  you  will 
find  that  life  will  appear  to  you  as  accommodating 
and  convenient  as  a  chest  which  any  key  will  fit  No 
more  excitement  and  no  more  disagreeable  surprises. 
—  Good  morning,  Fraulein  Frieda, —  By  the  way,  if 
you  ever  wish  to  marry,  don't  fail  to  insert  an  advertise- 
ment in  the  newspapers.  With  newspapers  discretion 
is  always  a  matter  of  honor.  Do  you  know  what  dis- 
cretion is  ?  No  ?  You  don't  know  that  ?  I've  known 
for  a  long  time  that  you  didn't  know  that.  Well,  good 
day,  ladies.  I  wish  you  an  excellent  appetite." 


CHAPTER  IV 
Herr  Mayr  Wants  to  Forget  Himself  Again 


morning  when  Master  Florian  returned  from 
giving  his  lessons,  he  found  two  letters  awaiting  him. 
One  was  a  dainty,  exquisitely  perfumed  missive  on 
pale-blue  paper,  the  first  glance  at  which  indicated  a 
young  lady  as  its  writer.  Florian  opened  it  with 
curiosity  and  read: 

"  My  deaf  Herr  Mayr: 

Please  accept  my  best  thanks  for  your  kind  attention. 
I  know  of  course  that  a  well  brought  up  young  lady  should 
not  accept  presents  from  gentlemen,  unless  from  relatives 
or  perhaps  a  fillipeen,  but  as  you  are  my  teacher,  I  must 
not  be  unmannerly.  Besides,  I  shall  have  eaten  up  all 
six  oranges  by  this  evening  and  then  they  will  be  gone. 
The  perfumery  is  so  eas)r  to  hide,  and  I  shall  always  smell 
of  it  when  I  think  of  you,  and  that  will  surely  be  very 
often,  because  I  am  so  thankful  to  you,  knowing  well 
enough  that  I  have  no  talent  at  all,  and  you,  dear  Herr 
Mayr,  were  the  first  to  tell  that  to  Mamma  right  out. 
But  it  will  not  do  any  good  after  all,  for  Mamma  will  not 
believe  that  I  have  no  talent,  and  insists  on  my  continuing 
to  take  lessons.  I  am  not  angry  with  you  at  all,  dear  Herr 
Mayr,  for  I  was  really  awfully  stupid  in  my  lesson,  and 
I  am  sure  you  did  not  mean  to  do  it  and  would  not  do  it 
again,  or  I  should  be  too  frightened  to  play  at  all.  I  al- 
ways was  afraid  of  you  because  you  were  so  strict,  but  now 
I  would  not  be  afraid  any  more,  because  I  know  you  only 
mean  well  by  me.  Papa  is  not  so  very  angry  with  you 
56 


Wants  to  Forget  Himself  Again       57 

any  more  either.  He  even  laughed  —  of  course  after 
Mamma  had  gone  out  of  the  room.  He  thinks  you  were 
right  after  all,  but  he  is  afraid  that  you  will  be  still  less 
able  than  he  to  prevent  Mamma  from  employing  a  new 
teacher,  if  she  really  wants  to.  Because  there  are  such  a 
lot  of  piano-teachers  and  you  c.ould  not  possibly  thrash 
them  all,  and  I  think  so,  too.  How  then  are  you  going 
to  prevent  my  taking  any  more  lessons?  Please  write 
me  to  Th.  B.,  Poste  restante,  Post  Office  Np.  7,  because 
Mamma  would  surely  not  allow  you  to  write  me.  Thank 
you  once  more  most  cordially,  I  remain, 

Your  obedient  pupil, 

THEKLA  BURMESTEK, 
P.  S.     Marie  was  delighted  with  her  thaler." 

Florian  laughed  aloud  as  he  read  this  engaging  little 
missive. 

"  You  are  a  jolly  good  sort !  "  he  shouted  as  he  came 
to  the  end,  and  then  with  quiet  satisfaction  he  read 
it  through  once  more  from  the  beginning. 

He  folded  the  two  closely  written  pages  together  and 
gently  caressed  the  smooth  paper.  Then  he  seated  him- 
self at  his  writing-desk,  and,  as  he  was  not  provided 
with  the  wherewithal  to  carry  on  a  polite  correspond- 
ence, he  took  a  sheet  of  common  note  paper  and  wrote 
as  follows  in  his  large  angular  hand: 

"  My  dear  young  lady: 

Your  delightful  letter  has  really  lifted  a  stone  from 
my  heart.  I  am  the  one  who  should  be  thankful  that,  in 
spite  of  my  outrageous  behavior  of  yesterday,  such  an 
amiable  young  lady  as  you  should  ever  care  to  look  at  me 
again,  and  the  more  so  as  she  is  good  enough  to  forgive 
me  everything  and  gives  me  the  right  to  continue  to  take 
an  interest  in  her  affairs. 


58  Florian  Mayr 

In  regard  to  the  possible  candidates  for  the  vacant  posi- 
tion as  music-teacher,  your  father  is  not  altogether  wrong, 
as  I  could  hardly  thrash  them  all.  But  I  would  like  to 
pound  a  few  of  them  to  a  pulp.  Do  not  fear,  I  will  find 
a  way  all  right  to  frighten  the  gentry  off.  And  if  every- 
thing else  fails  I  would  rather  run  away  with  you  and 
have  you  taught  the  sewing  machine  at  my  expense  than 
see  you  maltreated  so  without  rhyme  or  reason. 

But  as  you  will  hardly  care  very  much  about  being  ab- 
ducted by  me,  I  must  ask  you  not  to  submit  to  everything 
they  do  to  you,  but  to  assist  my  efforts  in  your  behalf  by 
getting  your  own  back  up  a  little.  I  have  had  so  many 
sad  experiences  with  unreasoning  parents  that  I  make  bold 
to  assert,  that  it  is  the  duty  of  good  children  to  make  up 
for  the  mistakes  of  their  parents.  Do  not  fail  to  let  me 
know  immediately  if  danger  threatens,  and  I  will  come  to 
your  assistance,  with  which  I  remain, 

Ypur  ever  devoted, 

FLORIAN  MATE." 

He  put  the  letter  in  an  envelope,  "which  he  addressed, 
and  was  making  preparations  to  go  out  and  post  it, 
when  his  eye  fell  upon  the  second  letter,  which  he  had 
in  the  meantime  quite  forgotten.  He  tore  it  open  im- 
patiently and  read: 

"My  dear  Sir: 

Our  Peter  Gais  has  just  completed  his  new  music-drama, 
'Satan!'  It  is  the  majestic  prelude  to  the  sublimely 
conceived  tetralogy,  'Man,'  the  creation  of  which  will 
represent  in  all  probability  the  culmination  of  his  titanic 
labors,  the  coronation  of  the  mighty  genius  of  our  de- 
moniac Peter  Gais.  Confidently  assuming  that  you,  too, 
worthy  brother  in  art,  are  in  close  sympathy  with  the 
growth  and  development  of  the  inspired  tone-poet,  I  take 


Wants  to  Forget  Himself  Again       59 

the  liberty  of  cordially  inviting  you  to  attend  the  first 
performance  of  'Satan'  by  its  creator,  which  will  take 
place  in  my  rqoms  to-morrow  evening  at  seven. 
"With  the  deepest  respect, 

EAPHAEL  SILBEBSTEIN." 


"  Lord,  children,  don't  fill  your  mouths  quite  so 
full !  "  growled  Florian  with  a  shake  of  the  head. 
Nevertheless  he  sat  down  and  wrote  a  postcard,  accepting 
the  invitation  with  thanks.  He  was  not  personally 
acquainted  with  the  demoniac,  inspired,  titanic  Peter 
Gais,  but  he  knew  that  his  opus  1  had  attracted  the 
attention  of  Liszt,  and  several  symphonic  poems  that 
he  had  teard  aroused  in  him  a  desire  to  meet  the 
man. 

Florian  went  out  and  dropped  both  letter  and  postal 
card  in  the  letter-box.  He  was  in  such  good  spirits 
that,  instead  of  his  frugal  luncheon  and  his  glass  of 
bad  Berlin  beer,  he  treated  himself  on  this  occasion  to 
a  small  bottle  of  wine,  and  even  that,  though  Lord 
knows  in  what  fiendish  witch's  kitchen  the  stuff  was 
brewed,  did  not  avail  to  destroy  his  good  humor.  As 
he  drank  the  last  glass  of  the  poisonous  red  liquid  he 
read  for  the  third  time  the  pale-blue  note.  It  was 
pleasant  to  have  won  such  a  good,  trusting  little  heart 
by  a  manly  act.  Won?  No,  he  took  the  strong  ex- 
pression back  the  instant  it  occurred  to  him.  For 
the  present  it  was  only  a  feeling  of  gratitude.  That 
was  quite  enough,  too,  for  the  little  he  had  done.  And 
he  had  never  been  partial  to  amorous  adventures,  at  least 
not  since  his  school  days  in  Bayreuth,  when  a  romantic 
love-affair  with  a  brewer's  daughter  had  ended  in  dis- 
appointment and  bitterness,  for,  just  as  he  graduated 


60  Florian  Mayr 

from  the  high  school,  the  youthful  lady  suddenly 
changed  her  mind  and  married  an  official,  subaltern  it 
is  true,  but  yet  the  possessor  of  a  regular,  salary. 
Since  that  time  no  feminine  being  had  ever  gained  any 
influence  over  his  inner  life.  He  was  no  man  for 
women  and  women  were  nothing  to  him.  His  female 
acquaintances  consisted  exclusively  of  landladies,  con- 
servatory girls,  and  other  "  piano  geese,"  and  all  three 
of  these  categories  were  as  wormwood  to  his  soul,  ex- 
cepting indeed  when  he  chose  to  take  them  from  the 
humorous  side,  a  process  that  in  itself  deprived  even 
the  most  fascinating  among  them  of  all  danger.  That 
afternoon  found  him  again  at  his  piano,  playing  the 
Liszt  etudes  with  his  customary  ardor,  and  his  usual 
healthy  sleep  was  not  disturbed  that  night  by  intrusive 
dreams  of  any  description. 

The  next  morning  came  a  second  pale-blue  note.  It 
read: 

"Dear  Herr  Mayr: 

What  will  you  think  of  me  for  writing  you  so  soon 
again,  but  I  am  so  unhappy  and  don't  know  what  to  do, 
and  have  no  other  friend  but  you.  Mamma  has  engaged 
a  new  teacher  for  me  after  all.  He  was  here  this  morn- 
ing. He  said  that  he  heard  Mamma  was  looking  for  a 
teacher  for  the  uncommonly  talented  daughter  of  the 
house;  he  did  not  as  a  general  rule  give  piano  lessons, 
a«  he  was  a  *  creative  artist/  but  he  would  regard  it  as  an 
honor  to  make  an  exception  in  this  case,  as  it  was  a  ques- 
tion of  a  family  whose  sincere  devotion  to  music  was  so 
well  known  in  musical  circles  throughout  the  capital. 
Hitherto  he  had  only  taught  a  number  of  Eussian  prin- 
cesses, on  whose  estates  he  had  spent  years  as  an  honored 
guest.  Then  I  had  to  play  him  something.  I  played 


Wants  to  Forget  Himself  Again       61 

very  much  worse  than  I  ever  did  for  you,  but  still  he  found 
that  I  had  a  very  remarkable  talent!  I  had  been  spoiled 
by  a  thoroughly  wrong  method!  Mamma  said  I  have  been 
taking  lessons  of  you.  Then  he  said  you  were  nothing  but 
a  wood-chopper  and  not  a  pianist.  You  had  no  soul  and 
no  understanding  for  the  creative  artist.  In  musical  cir- 
cles you  were  never  called  anything  else  but  Strong-Mayr, 
and  you  had  been  sued  for  calling  an  old  lady  a  *  silly 
goose '  and  an  *  old  cow ' !  When  you  were  not  working 
you  amused  yourself  by  mixing  some  sort  of  stuff  with 
your  landlady's  coffee  so  that  she  and  all  her  family  got 
so  ill  that  they  had  to  send  for  the  doctor ! 

Dear  Herr  Mayr,  I  am  firmly  convinced  that  every  bit 
of  that  is  just  as  big  a  lie  as  that  I  have  any  talent. 
Please  help  me  if  you  can.  The  teacher's  name  is  An- 
tonine  Prczewalski.  Mamma  liked  him  very  much  and 
engaged  him  at  once.  He  played  one  of  his  own  composi- 
tions too.  I  suppose  I  don't  understand  much  about  it, 
but  I  thought  it  was  horrible ;  as  you  used  to  say :  '  snail 
pudding  with  raspberry  syrup ! '  And  when  he  plays,  he 
wheezes  and  snorts  through  his  nose.  My  father  was  not 
at  home  but  he  could  hardly  have  done  anything  about  it 
anyhow.  My  first  lesson  is  to-morrow  at  twelve  o'clock, 
and  I  will  try  to  slip  over  to  the  post-office  and  see  whether 
there  is  anything  from  you  there  or  not.  That  would  be 
a  consolation  at  least.  Once  more  I  beg  you  from  my 
very  heart,  dear  Herr  Mayr,  please  do  help  me,  and  it 
would  not  harm  that  new  teacher  if  you  were  to  thrash 
him  soundly,  though  I  don't  know  whether  you  know  him 
as  intimately  as  that. 

Well,  I  shall  be  at  the  post-office  at  half-past  eleven,  in 
case  you  want  to  tell  me  anything,  and  remain, 
Your  faithful  pupil, 

THEKLA  BURMESTER." 

When  Florian  Mayr  had  finished  reading  this  letter, 


62  Florian  Mayr 

his  eyes  flashed  and  the  corners  of  his  mouth  twitched 
with  satanic  joy.  He  finished  his  breakfast  quickly 
and  got  ready  to  go  out.  It  was  snowing,  but  he  never- 
theless left  his  umbrella  standing  and  subjected  his 
three  walking  sticks  to  careful  examination  in  regard  to 
weight,  elasticity,  and  handiness,  finally  giving  pref- 
erence to  an  extremely  supple  stick  made  of  steel  rod 
wound  with  hemp  and  lacquered,  with  a  heavy  leaden 
knob,  also  covered  with  hemp,  a  kind  of  stick  long  ago 
gone  out  of  fashion,  that  used  to  be  called  a  "  death- 
dealer." 

Gayly  whistling  the  "  cudgeling-motif "  from  the 
Meistersinger  ("I  whacked  his  back  all  black  and 
blue"),  he  sprang  down  the  stairs  and  proceeded  on 
the  double  quick  to  Xo.  2  Schumannstrasse.  Up  one 
flight  a  visiting-card  on  the  door  smiled  him  welcome. 
"Antonine  Prczewalski,  Composer,"  the  legend  read. 
He  rang  energetically.  A  fat  woman  in  a  dirty  wrap- 
per appeared. 

"  Is  his  Honor,  the  Tone-Poet,  at  home?  "  he  asked. 

The  landlady  was  somewhat  astonished  at  this 
strange  salutation. 

"  Oh,  you  mean  the  Polish  gentleman  ?  Oh,  yes,  he's 
at  home.  But  I  can't  let  anybody  in  so  early.  He's 
always  asleep  at  this  hour." 

"  Oh,  that  doesn't  matter,  my  dear  lady,"  exclaimed 
Florian  naively ;  "  I'm  an  old  friend  of  his.  He'll  be 
delighted  to  see  me.  Just  let  me  come  in.  I'll  get 
him  up  all  right !  " 

"  Very  well  then,  sir,  but  at  your  own  risk.  The 
gentleman  can  be  very  unpleasant  when  he's  wak- 
ened." 

"  Me  too !  "  remarked  Florian  ambiguously,  as  he 


Wants  to  Forget  Himself  Again       63 

opened  the  door  pointed  out  by  the  fat  landlady  and 
entered. 

Prczewalski's  rooms  consisted  of  an  elegantly  fur- 
nished salon  and  bed-room.  The  salon  was,  it  is  true, 
only  half  as  large  as  Florian's  own  corner  room  in  the 
Luisenplatz,  but  its  magnificence  was  fairly  overpower- 
ing. A  rug  covered  the  whole  floor,  a  rug,  to  be  sure, 
which  twenty  years  ago  was  not  new.  In  a  corner  a 
sofa  and  three  chairs  upholstered  in  green  plush  stood 
about  a  circular  table,  in  the  style  of  fifty  years  ago. 
The  crocheted  tidies,  all  crumpled  up  and  held  together 
by  pins,  hung  limp  from  the  backs  of  the  chairs.  In 
front  of  the  sofa  a  Polish  newspaper  lay  on  the  floor, 
and  the  carpet  and  green  plush  were  all  strewn  with 
cigarette  ashes.  Over  the  sofa  in  an  oval,  gilt  frame 
hung  the  portrait  of  the  composer  in  half  life  size. 
Above  it  was  fastened  a  dried-up  laurel  wreath 
Against  the  opposite  wall  stood  a  writing-table,  upon 
which  there  was  another  portrait  of  the  composer,  repre- 
senting him  at  the  piano,  gazing  dreamily  into  the  un- 
known. Round  it  were  grouped  a  number  of  cabinet 
photographs,  mostly  of  decollete  young  women.  In 
the  middle  of  the  room  a  Bliithner  grand  piano  stood 
open,  and  on  the  rack  Chopin's  Nocturnes  together  with 
a  manuscript  written  in  pencil.  The  composer  was  evi- 
dently extracting  practical  inspiration  from  a  work  of 
his  great  countryman.  Upon  the  keys  of  the  piano, 
too,  lay  cigarette  ashes. 

After  a  short  examination  of  this  room  consecrated 
to  genius,  Florian  Mayr  stepped  to  the  bed-room  door 
and  listened.  Absolute  silence.  He  opened  the  door 
carefully  and  looked  in.  In  sweetest  slumber  lay  the 
handsome  Antonine  in  bed,  and  one  end  of  his  melan- 


64  Florian  Mayr 

choly  mustache  waving  gently  in  his  zephyrlike 
breath.  About  the  high  alabaster  forehead,  that  must 
have  felt  the  consecrating  kiss  of  Chopin's  muse  late 
into  the  night,  clustered  wantonly  his  dark  locks. 

Florian  Mayr  enjoyed  for  only  half  a  minute  the 
entrancing  spectacle  of  the  slumbering  genius,  then  re- 
turned to  the  salon  and  sat  down  at  the  piano,  leaving 
the  door  wide  open.  After  Beckmesser's  lovely  melody 
in  the  last  act  of  the  Meistersinger  he  intoned  the  bur- 
lesque "  Morgen  ich  leuchte  im  rosigen  Schein," 
whacking  out  with  it,  fortissimo,  Beckmesser's  amazing 
guitar  accompaniment.  Then  followed  immediately 
the  "  cudgeling-motif."  As  a  finale  he  hammered  it 
out  with  both  hands  in  octaves,  but  with  the  left  hand 
half  a  tone  lower  than  the  right ! 

The  din  was  appalling.  It  was  a  truly  diabolical 
morning-call,  enough  to  frighten  the  best  conscience 
in  the  world  out  of  its  sleep.  Florian  stopped  for  a 
moment.  Yonder  in  the  bed-room  something  growled 
and  snorted,  and  Florian  thought  he  caught  the  words, 
"  psia  Icrew."  "  How  are  you,  old  man  ?  "  he  shouted 
back  cheerily.  "  I  was  only  giving  a  little  au- 
bade." 

He  seized  his  stick  and  advanced  to  the  threshold 
of  the  bed-room,  where  he  took  off  his  hat  and  made  a 
comical  bow  towards  the  bed. 

Prczewalski  raised  himself  up  sleepily  and  rubbed 
his  eyes,  now  recognizing  his  morning  caller  for  the 
first  time.  He  cleared  his  throat,  wheezed  hard  a  few 
times  and  said: 

"What  for  did  you  wake  me?  Beastly  —  low- 
lived !  What  do  you  want  here  ?  " 

"  Dear  me,  I  only  wanted  to  express  my  thanks  for 


Wants  to  Forget  Himself  Again       65 

the  kind  information  that  you  gave  yesterday  about 
me." 

Florian  said  this  in  the  pleasantest  tone  in  the  world, 
putting  on  his  hat  without  ceremony.  Then  grabbing 
the  leaden  handle  of  his  cane  he  flourished  it  up  and 
down  over  the  coverlet  until  it  sang. 

Prczewalski  winced  every  time  the  thing  whistled 
by  his  nose.  He  seized  the  featherbed  in  both  hands 
and  pulled  it  over  his  head,  ducking  under  it  for  pro- 
tection. 

"  Keep  quiet  the  stick !  "  he  cried  through  his  nose. 
"  You  make  me  nervous." 

"  Oh,  never  mind,"  replied  Florian,  smiling  pleas- 
antly. "  You  know  I  always  have  to  have  something 
in  my  hand  to  play  with  —  so  that  my  fingers  won't  get 
stiff,  don't  you  know  ?  Awfully  nice  little  stick,  eh  ?  " 
And  he  made  it  whiz  close  by  the  composer's  nose  a 
couple  of  times.  "  Wouldn't  I  like  to  lay  a  couple  of 
dozen  with  it  over  some  really  deserving  person!  You 
can't  think  of  anyone,  can  you  ?  " 

"  Go  away  —  leave  me  in  peace !  "  cried  the  hand- 
some Pole,  looking  out  uneasily  with  one  eye  from  be- 
hind the  featherbed.  "  I  have  not  the  custom  to  re- 
ceive visitors  so  early  in  the  morning." 

Florian  put  his  stick  under  his  arm,  stuck  his  hands 
in  his  overcoat  pockets  and  continued,  without  even 
noticing  Antonine's  remark. 

"  Look  here,  how  would  you  act  towards  a  man  who 
said  you  were  a  woodchopper  and  no  pianist,  eh  ?  " 

Prczewalski  pricked  up  his  ears  and  shoved  back  the 
bedclothes. 

"  How  would  you  treat  a  man,  for  instance,  who  as- 
serted that  you  were  a  stupid  ass,  a  dirty  ape,  a  miser- 


66  Florian  Mayr 

able,  deceitful  back-biter,  and  I  don't  know  what  else, — 
a  stupid  idiot  of  an  imitator  and  no  creative  artist  at 
all?  If  I  should  say  all  that  about  you,  what  would 
you  do  ? " 

Prczewalski  sat  up  in  bed,  ran  his  hand  through  his 
dishevelled  hair,  snorted  in  alarm  and  called  out, 

"  I  shall  not  stand  it !  You  have  come  here  to  as- 
sault me.  Go  away !  " 

"  But,  my  dear  colleague,  don't  get  so  excited.  I'm 
only  speaking  hypothetically.  I  only  want  to  know 
what  to  do  with  the  chap  who  says  I  called  a  worthy 
old  lady  a  l  silly  goose,'  and  an  '  old  cow '  and  was  be- 
ing sued  for  libel, —  and  that  I  was  a  poisoner  to 
boot!" 

"  That  is  not  true !  I  did  not  say  that !  Who  told 
you  that?" 

"  Well,  well,  just  fancy !  It  was  you  then !  Hm,  I 
must  confess  I  never  would  have  believed  it  of  you. 
I  wouldn't  have  thought  it  possible  to  have  so  many 
dirty  lies  told  behind  one's  back  for  only  ten  marks! 
All  right  then,  just  have  the  goodness  to  decide  whether 
I  shall  sue  you  for  libel  and  show  you  up  before  the 
whole  musical  world,  or  whether  you  prefer  to  take  a 
damned  good  licking  right  here  and  now !  " 

"  Oho !  So !  "  snorted  Prczewalski,  his  voice  trem- 
bling with  fear.  "  Khn,  khn !  You  threaten  to  strike 
me !  Oh,  you  want  to  assault  me,  eh  ?  But  I  will  not 
have  it,  no !  Oh,  I  shall  sue  you  for  assaulting  me  in 
my  own  home !  " 

"  Oh,  never  mind,  you  can  do  that  afterwards,"  re- 
plied Florian  unconcerned.  "  But  I  shall  have  to 
thrash  you  before  you  can  prosecute  me,  you  know. 


Wants  to  Forget  Himself  Again       67 

So  get  up  lively, —  let's  get  it  over  as  soon  as  possible ! 
Bis  dot  qui  cito  dad,  the  Komans  used  to  say !  " 

He  raised  his  stick  threateningly  in  his  right  hand, 
while  with  the  left  he  made  a  motion  towards  his  vic- 
tim's curly  head,  as  if  to  pull  him  out  of  bed  by  the 
ears. 

The  handsome  Antonine  turned  as  white  as  a  sheet. 
He  threw  himself  back  upon  the  pillows,  kicked  out 
spasmodically  with  both  feet  and  endeavored  to  ward 
off  awkwardly  with  his  arms  the  attack  of  the  Angel  of 
Wrath,  crying  out  piteously, 

"  Let  me  alone,  you  low  fellow,  let  me  alone !  I 
shall  not  stand  it  1  " 

Master  Florian  let  his  stick  fall,  took  a  step  back  and 
exclaimed  with  apparent  astonishment, 

"  Eh,  what's  that  ?  You  don't  want  to  be  thrashed  ? 
All  right  —  all  you've  got  to  do  is  to  say  so,  and  we'll 
make  some  other  arrangement.  I'll  tell  you  what, — 
do  you  give  me  a  written  promise  never  to  give  lessons 
in  the  house  of  Consul  Burmester,  and  I'll  overlook 
your  scoundrelly  libel  just  this  once.  What  do  you 
say?  If  you  like  that  better,  get  up  and  write  that 
down  for  me." 

"  Yes,  but  go  into  the  other  room  or  I  can't  get  up," 
sighed  Antonine  with  a  feeling  of  evident  relief. 

"  Oh,  don't  mind  me,"  said  Florian,  grinning  good- 
naturedly.  "  Hello,  there's  a  door  leading  into  the  hall. 
You'd  like  to  skip  out  that  way,  eh  ?  Oh,  no,  dear  boy, 
that  won't  do!" 

The  key  was  on  the  inside.  Florian  went  to  the 
door,  made  sure  that  it  was  locked,  extracted  the  key 
and  slipped  it  into  his  pocket. 


68  Florian  Mayr 

"  So,  now  we're  all  right.  Please  don't  waste  any- 
time on  your  toilette ;  I'm  in  a  beastly  hurry  you  know. 
I  suppose  you've  no  objection  to  my  knocking  your 
miserable  old  piano  to  pieces  a  little,  while  I  wait,  have 
you?" 

And  without  waiting  for  an  answer  to  this  modest 
demand  he  went  back  into  the  salon,  shutting  the  door 
nearly  to  behind  him.  He  took  a  few  heavy  steps  to- 
wards the  piano,  and  then  returned  on  tiptoe  to  the 
door  and  waited.  He  heard  the  bed  creak.  The  hand- 
some Antonine  rose  and  now  —  right  enough,  just  as 
he  expected !  —  Prczewalski  was  on  the  point  of 
slamming  the  door  to  and  bolting  it  on  the  inside.  But 
Florian  was  quicker  than  he.  Thrusting  his  walking- 
stick  through  the  crack  he  easily  shoved  back  the  des- 
perately struggling  composer  with  the  weight  of  his 
shoulder,  and,  sticking  his  head  into  the  bed-room, 
greeted  the  discomforted  Antonine  with  a  cheerful  grin. 

"  No,  no,  old  chap,  that  wasn't  what  I  intended ! 
Come  right  in  just  as  you  are.  You're  pretty  enough 
to  kiss,  pity  I'm  not  a  girl.  Well,  perhaps  you'd  better 
put  on  your  dressing-gown,  you  might  catch  cold." 

Prczewalski  bit  his  lip  and  muttered  an  oath  in  Pol- 
ish. There  was  nothing  for  it,  however,  but  to  slip  on 
his  dressing-gown  obediently  and  follow  his  tormentor 
into  the  drawing-room. 

"  What  do  you  want  with  me  ?  "  he  asked  in  a  sullen 
rage. 

"  Have  the  kindness  to  sit  down  there,  dear  friend, 
and  write  about  like  this : 

"  '  I,  the  undersigned,  hereby  pledge  my  word  of 
honor  not  to  give  Fraulein  Thekla  Burmester  any 
further  instruction  in  pianoforte  playing  under  any 


Wants  to  Forget  Himself  Again       69 

consideration  whatever,  and  not  to  recommend  any 
other  teacher  to  her.  If  I  should  nevertheless  break 
this  my  sacred  word  of  honor,  I  hereby  acknowledge 
myself  to  be  a  low-lived  scoundrel  and  stand  ready  to 
undergo  without  complaint  the  thrashing  to  which  Herr 
Florian  Mayr,  pianist  of  this  city,  has  condemned  me. 
Signature  and  date.'  " 

Antonine  sat  down  and  wrote.  It  was  evidently  no 
easy  task,  for  he  made  quite  a  number  of  pauses  which 
he  filled  up  with  deep  sighs  and  inarticulate  grunts. 
At  last  he  handed  the  patiently  waiting  Florian  the 
complete  document.  The  latter  looked  it  through  with 
considerable  gravity,  and  remarked, 

"  You've  left  out  the  '  low-lived  scoundrel '  and  the 
'  thrashing.'  " 

Antonine  only  shrugged  his  shoulders.  He  sat  there 
in  his  chair  with  pallid  features,  shaking  knees  and 
disordered  locks,  the  very  picture  of  misery.  Florian 
almost  felt  a  tinge  of  sympathy  for  him.  He  folded 
up  the  paper  and  put  it  in  his  breast  pocket  and  said, 
"  Well,  let's  call  it  all  square  then.  If  you  don't  keep 
your  word  you're  a  low-lived  scoundrel  all  the  same, 
whether  you  give  it  to  me  in  writing  or  not.  And  you'll 
get  the  thrashing  too,  don't  forget  that  for  a  moment. 
I'll  keep  an  eye  on  you.  And  now,  my  dear  colleague, 
I  have  the  honor  to  wish  you  a  very  good  morning !  " 
So  saying  he  tipped  his  hat,  laid  the  bed-room  key  on 
the  table  and  turned  towards  the  door.  But  the  hand- 
some Antonine  sprang  up  with  clenched  fists  and 
screamed  in  uncontrollable  fury, 

"  Herr  Mayr,  you  are  a  — " 

"  What,  if  you  please  ?  "  interrupted  Florian,  turning 
and  raising  his  stick  threateningly. 


70  Florian  Mayr 

"  Oh,  you  are  a  —  a  very  extraordinary  person !  " 
continued  the  other  in  a  cowed  whisper. 

"  Oh,  thanks  very  much !  "  said  Florian  and  left  the 
room.  He  had  scarcely  set  foot  on  the  stairs  before 
the  apartment  door  was  jerked  open  behind  him,  and 
there  stood  the  noble  Pole  in  dressing-gown  and  bare 
legs. 

"  Oh,  you  fellow,"  he  screamed  as  loud  as  he  could, 
"  I  have  thrown  you  down  the  stairs,  I  have.  You 
know  that!" 

Then  he  retreated  with  extraordinary  celerity  and 
slammed  the  outside  door  to.  Florian  heard  him  yell 
in  the  corridor, 

"Madam  Cebrian,  you  are  a  witness  that  I  have 
just  thrown  this  gentleman  down  the  stairs !  " 

Herr  Florian  Mayr  was  in  uncommonly  high  spirits 
and  very  much  pleased  with  himself  as  he  strolled  round 
to  the  private  conservatory  where  he  taught  on  this 
particular  morning.  In  reality  his  duties  kept  him 
there  until  noon,  but  at  eleven  he  requested  one  of  his 
colleagues  to  take  over  his  pupils,  as  he  had  to  meet 
his  grandmother  at  the  railway  station.  The  matter 
was  easily  arranged  and  thus  Florian  Mayr  found  him- 
self a  few  minutes  past  eleven  on  the  way  to  Post  Office 
No.  7.  There  lie  was  obliged  to  promenade  up  and 
down  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  his  patience  was 
rewarded  by  the  appearance  of  Fraulein  Thekla.  As 
soon  as  he  descried  her  coming,  he  stepped  into  a  door- 
way, where  he  remained  until  she  came  out  of  the  Post 
Office  with  his  letter  in  her  hand,  looking  uneasily 
about  her.  As  she  caught  sight  of  Florian  she  gave  a 
little  cry  of  joyful  surprise.  He  approached  her  laugh- 
ingly shaking  a  threatening  finger. 


Wants  to  Forget  Himself  Again       71 

"  Well,  well,  young  lady !  I  know  something  about 
you!  You  receive  secret  letters  poste  restante;  from 
young  gentlemen  too,  I  fancy,  eh  ?  Oh,  if  I  should  tell 
mamma  about  that !  " 

Thekla  blushed  in  embarrassment,  and  replied  to 
this  salutation  with  rather  an  awkward  girlish  curtsey. 

"  Oh,  Herr  Mayr,  you  are  only  joking,"  she  ex- 
claimed naively.  "  You  know  it  was  only  your  letter 
that  I  got!" 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  my  dear  Fraulein !  Perhaps 
I'm  not  a  young  gentleman  ? "  he  queried.  "  To  be 
sure  I've  got  a  face  like  a  leathery  old  church-father 
in  a  mediaeval  picture.  You  are  evidently  not  aware 
how  miserably  young  I  am.  Twenty-three !  Aha,  that 
makes  you  stare,  doesn't  it?  Yes  ma'am,  I'm  at  the 
most  dangerous  age,  I  mean  when  one  is  capable  of  the 
most  idiotic  things." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  believe  that,  Herr  Mayr,"  remon- 
strated Thekla,  looking  up  at  him  doubtfully. 

"  Indeed  I  am.  I  said  in  my  letter  that  I  was  going 
to  run  off  with  you.  If  that  isn't  idiotic  I'd  like  to 
know  what  is !  " 

"  What,  really  ?  "  cried  Thekla,  her  eyes  brightening 
joyfully.  They  had  walked  together  round  the  next 
corner,  and  were  now  strolling  down  the  Jerusalemer- 
strasse,  without  really  knowing  where  they  were. 
Florian  looked  down  with  a  droll  smile  upon  the  fresh, 
pretty  girl  at  his  side,  to  whom  the  dark  plush  dress  and 
furs  were  so  becoming.  His  expression  had  a  good  deal 
of  the  uncle  in  it  but  he  was  just  a  little  smitten  as 
well.  Her  charming  embarrassment  amused  him  im- 
mensely. 

"  Hm,  what  do  you  take  me  for  ? "  he  went  on. 


72  Florian  Mayr 

"  Half-way  measures  always  were  hateful  to  me.  Be- 
fore I'd  let  anybody  else  give  you  piano  lessons,  I'd 
rather  run  off  with  you  myself.  That  seems  to  be  the 
only  possibility  left.  Am  I  not  right  ?  " 

"  If  you  really  think  so,  Herr  Mayr,"  answered 
Thekla  bashfully.  She  was  quite  at  sea  whether  he 
was  in  earnest  or  was  only  poking  fun  at  her  "  Didn't 
you  get  my  second  letter  ? "  she  added  in  order  to  cover 
her  embarrassment.  Florian  replied  in  the  affirmative 
and  then  proceeded  to  give  her  a  most  graphic  descrip- 
tion of  his  morning  visit  to  the  noble  Pan  Prczewalski. 
How  proud  and  happy  Thekla  was!  Her  cheeks 
glowed  and  her  eyes  danced  as  she  listened  eagerly, 
looking  up  admiringly  at  her  tall,  slim  hero,  who, 
armed  only  with  a  simple  walking-stick,  had  dared  to 
do  battle  for  her  and  to  invade  the  lair  of  the  long- 
haired monster,  to  which  her  inexorably  musical  mamma 
was  ready  to  sacrifice  her. 

"  How  kind  you  are,  Herr  Mayr,  "  she  exclaimed 
fervently,  as  he  brought  his  story  to  a  close.  "  Do  you 
really  think  he  won't  come  any  more  ?  " 

"  We  can  see  about  that  right  now,  for  to-day  at 
least,"  replied  Florian.  "  Your  lesson  was  to  be  at 
noon,  wasn't  it  ?  It  will  be  twelve  in  a  few  minutes. 
We'll  just  watch." 

"Almost  twelve!"  cried  Thekla  in  alarm.  "Oh, 
dear  me,  I  must  run  home  as  fast  as  I  can.  Where  are 
we  anyhow?  Why  we're  quite  lost!  " 

"  Oh,  nonsense,  you  needn't  go  home  at  all  to-day, 
Fraulein  Thekla,"  laughed  Florian.  "  There's  no 
piano  lesson  to-day  and  walking  is  a  good  deal  more 
sensible.  It  was  I  who  prescribed  it  for  you !  " 

"  Oh  dear,"  said  Thekla  anxiously,  "  I'd  rather  go 


Wants  to  Forget  Himself  Again       73 

to  walk  with  you,  Herr  Mayr,  but  I  really  must  be 
home  at  twelve.  Mamma  doesn't  know  that  the  Polish 
gentleman  isn't  coming,  you  know.  And  where  shall 
I  say  I've  been  if  I  don't  go  home  at  all  ?  Oh,  what  a 
lot  of  people  there  are  here!  If  anyone  should  recog- 
nize us ! " 

She  began  to  walk  fast  in  the  direction  of  the  Mark- 
grafenstrasse.  She  was  quite  excited  and  paid  hardly 
any  attention  to  Florian  when  he  teased  her  about  their 
rendezvous. 

The  clock  on  the  French  church  in  the  Gendarmen- 
Markt  struck  twelve  before  they  reached  the  house  in 
which  the  Burmesters  lived;  and  they  were  still  about 
fifty  yards  distant  from  it  when  they  suddenly  caught 
sight  of  no  less  a  personage  than  Herr  Prczewalski 
emerging  from  the  Burmesters'  door.  Thekla  was  so 
frightened  at  sight  of  him  that  she  was  in  doubt  whether 
to  turn  and  run  or  hide  behind  her  tall  friend's  back. 
But  Florian  caught  her  firmly  by  the  hand  and  dragged 
her  along  without  ceremony.  A  few  steps  more  and 
they  stood  directly  before  the  composer,  who  was  walk- 
ing along  with  bowed  head  and  half-closed  eyes,  and 
was  not  aware  of  their  approach  until  it  was  too  late  to 
avoid  them. 

"Well,  well,  there  you  are  again,  dear  friend," 
called  out  Florian  jovially,  flourishing  his  stick  like  any 
dashing  young  corps-student  to  lend  emphasis  to  his 
salutation.  "  You  haven't  troubled  yourself  to  call  on 
the  Herr  Consul,  have  you  ?  You  see  Fraulein  Bur- 
mester  wasn't  expecting  you  to-day." 

Prczewalski  gasped  for  words.  "  Oh,  I  see  —  I  un- 
derstand perfectly,"  he  stammered.  "You  must  par- 
don me,  my  dear  young  lady,  I  am  obliged  to  forego 


74  Florian  Mayr 

the  honor  —  I  have  explained  the  Frau  mother  my  rea- 
sons." 

"  Ah,  indeed !  "  exclaimed  Florian  in  a  tone  of  pre- 
tended surprise.  "  Fraulein  Burmester  will  be  awfully 
sorry  about  that,  won't  you,  Fraulein  ?  " 

But  Thekla  in  her  embarrassment  could  do  nothing  but 
smile.  The  handsome  Antonine  took  off  his  hat  to  the 
girl,  shook  back  his  flowing  locks,  and  said  with  his 
usual  snort  as  he  replaced  his  hat  upon  his  brow, 

"  Gracious  Fraulein  will  excuse  me,  I  am  in  a  hurry. 
Frau  mamma  was  in  great  anxiety  about  you.  She 
will  be  much  relieved  to  hear  you  were  in  such  excellent 
company !  " 

And  so  saying  he  set  himself  in  motion  without 
vouchsafing  Mayr  so  much  as  a  look.  The  latter  took 
off  his  hat  and  bowed  low,  calling  out  hilariously, 

"  I  have  the  honor,  my  dear  colleague !  Uncom- 
monly pleased  to  see  you  again !  " 

And  laughing  heartily,  he  caught  Thekla  by  the  hand 
and  strode  off  with  his  long  legs,  dragging  her  with 
him. 

But  he  had  not  gone  far  when  he  felt  a  hard  object 
in  contact  with  his  shoulder,  and,  turning  round  sud- 
denly, beheld  before  him  the  handsome  Antonine,  who 
had  caught  up  with  him  and  had  tapped  him  on  the 
shoulder  with  the  handle  of  his  umbrella. 

"  I  forbid  it !  "  snorted  the  Pole ;  "  I  forbid  it  posi- 
tively !  I  do  not  know  you.  Do  you  understand  ?  I 
do  not  want  persons  I  do  not  know  to  salute  me !  " 

Thus  delivering  himself,  he  turned  upon  his  heel  and 
strode  off  with  his  nose  in  the  air. 

Florian  watched  him  a  while  with  an  amused  smile, 
then  he  cried  in  a  tragicomic  tone, 


Wants  to  Forget  Himself  Again       75 

"  Woe  is  me,  I  am  undone !  " 

But  Thekla  was  hardly  in  a  state  of  mind  at  that  mo- 
ment to  appreciate  humor. 

"  Oh  dear,  oh  dear,  what  shall  I  say  when  I  get 
home  ?  "  she  cried  anxiously. 

"  The  truth  of  course ;  what  else  ?  I  will  be  re- 
sponsible for  everything,  my  dear  young  lady !  " 

And  with  a  last  reassuring  press  of  the  hand  he  took 
leave  of  her  at  her  door. 


CHAPTER  V 
Satan 

THAT  evening  Florian  Mayr  went  to  Herr  Raphael 
Silberstein's  to  hear  the  music-drama  Satan.  He  ar- 
rived a  little  late  but  there  was  no  need  to  tip-toe  into 
the  room  so  cautiously  for  just  at  that  moment  ljeter 
Gais  had  let  loose  all  hell.  A  Bechstein  concert-grand 
which  had  seen  some  twenty  years  of  service  trembled 
under  the  ponderous  paws  of  its  gifted  tamer.  Rum- 
bling tremolos,  octaves  roaring  in  the  deepest  bass, 
struck  mariellando,  the  clanking  rattle  of  chords  of  the 
diminished  seventh  in  wild  disorder,  chromatic  runs, 
foam  dashing  up  and  falling  back,  flashing  tongues  of 
flame  sharp-pointed,  the  reverberation  of  thunder  in  the 
bowels  of  the  earth,  groaning  contra-bass  darkness  and 
lurid  treble  lightning  —  that  was  the  tone-picture  of 
hell,  that  was  the  decorative  style  al  fresco. 

Florian  Mayr  remained  standing  by  the  door  and  at 
first  took  no  notice  of  the  assembled  company.  This 
was  a  kind  of  music  that  really  made  it  hard  for  one  to 
see,  almost  to  hear.  But  the  force  and  fire  of  the  in- 
terpretation could  not  fail  to  make  an  impression  as 
well  upon  the  musician  as  upon  the  layman. 

Peter  Gais  in  his  outward  appearance  had  five-eighths 
Beethoven,  two-eighths  Rubinstein,  and  one-eighth  of  in- 
congruous elements  which  were  thus  probably  his  own 
Gaisic  contribution.  He  was  barely  of  medium  height, 
thickset,  his  head  very  bulky,  still  more  bulky  his  nose 
76 


Satan  77 

which  was  a  formless  lump ;  his  forehead  was  high- 
arched  and  displayed  striking  musical  bumps,  the  blond 
eyebrows  were  scarcely  noticeable,  the  round  blue  eyes 
strongly  protruding,  the  mouth  large  and  brutal,  but 
the  lips  firm  and  energetic;  the  whole  face  unhealthy, 
pale,  cheese-colored,  and  entirely  beardless;  his  yellow- 
ish gray  hair,  smoothed  back  from  his  forehead  without 
a  parting,  was  long  but  not  luxuriant.  Leaning  for- 
ward, his  lips  tightly  closed,  he  stared  at  his  manuscript 
and  manipulated  the  keyboard  with  the  strength  of 
four  hands.  Behind  him  sat  Eaphael  Silberstein, 
touching  from  motives  of  pure  reverence  only  the  utter- 
most corner  of  his  tipped-up  chair  and  looking  over 
the  shoulder  of  the  mighty  genius  at  the  manuscript  to 
turn  the  leaves  for  him.  He  was  taller  than  Peter 
Gais  by  fully  two  heads,  very  lank  and  slender ;  he  had 
a  pitch-black  shock  of  hair  kept  closely  cropped  and  an 
unsightly  black  beard  under  the  large,  unmistakable 
nose  of  his  race.  Had  it  not  been  for  this  altogether 
too  obtrusive  nose,  one  might  almost  have  called  Raphael 
Silberstein  a  handsome  young  man  for  he  had  the  smooth 
round  forehead  of  a  madonna,  heavy  black  eyebrows, 
the  large  deepset  eyes  of  an  enthusiast,  and  a  pale  but 
clear  complexion.  In  the  expression  of  his  face  and 
in  the  awkward  attitudes  of  his  abnormally  long  limbs 
there  was  a  certain  something  that  was  childlike  and 
touching  which,  however,  by  reason  of  the  nose  was 
constantly  in  danger  of  becoming  ridiculous. 

The  storm  of  hell  subsided.  After  a  few  staccato 
chords  came  a  gloomy  and  impressive  theme,  obviously 
for  the  brasses,  probably  the  "  motif  of  Satanic  Maj- 
esty." A  young  girl,  small,  very  slim,  with  the  large 
eyes  of  a  martyr  in  her  pale  little  face  which  was 


78  Florian  Mayr 

framed  in  a  wilderness  of  soft,  dark  brown  locks  that 
fell  luxuriantly  to  her  shoulders,  rose  noiselessly  from 
her  chair  near  the  door  and  handed  Florian  Mayr  a 
hectograph  text  of  Satan  and  pointed  out  the  passage 
which  had  now  been  reached. 

He  read :  "  The  devils  and  the  damned  flee  into  the 
glowing,  rocky  gorges.  Satan  rises  from  the  depths, 
laughs  contemptuously  after  them,  spreads  his  mighty, 
bat-like  pinions,  and  mounts  a  throne  of  solid  rock  at 
the  right."  And  then  followed  a  long  monologue  of 
Satan  which  was,  indeed,  in  the  highest  degree  char- 
acteristic of  the  lord  of  darkness  for  it  remained  abso- 
lutely obscure  what  the  gentleman  really  wanted  to 
say.  It  was  a  wilderness  of  high-sounding  words  done 
into  thoroughly  bad  verse.  This  much  only  seemed 
to  be  conveyed,  namely,  that  his  infernal  majesty  pur- 
posed to  seduce  'a  fair  Christian  saint  who  at  that  mo- 
ment was  confined  in  the  cell  of  a  Eoman  circus,  trem- 
blingly awaiting  the  hour  when  she  should  be  thrown 
to  the  wild  beasts.  What  it  was  that  had  attracted 
Satan  to  this  poor  girl  in  particular  was  for  the  time 
being  in  no  wise  discernible. 

But  at  this  point  Peter  Gais  began  to  sing  and  Florian 
Mayr  shut  his  book  to  listen,  like  the  rest  of  the  com- 
pany, reverently.  But  this  it  was  easier  to  resolve  to 
do  than  to  do  it,  for  Peter  Gais  sang  as  wretchedly  as 
only  a  German  composer  can.  He  had  not  the  slightest 
trace  of  a  voice,  the  notes  seemed  to  choke  him,  the 
"  r*s  "  he  gargled  in  the  back  part  of  his  throat,  and 
moreover  with  his  wildly  protruding  eyes  and  his  mouth 
diagonally  open  he  presented  so  strange  a  spectacle  that 
less  respectful  natures  found  it  difficult  to  preserve  a 
becoming  gravity.  But  they  soon  became  accustomed 


Satan  79 

to  the  lack  of  grace  and  beauty  in  the  delivery.  At 
all  events  the  composer  knew  how  to  bring  out  the 
dramatic  accents;  he  struck  the  notes  firmly  in  the 
middle  so  that  one  could  at  least  get  a  notion  of  the 
melodic  construction ;  in  all  passages  that  were  too  high 
for  him  he  lapsed  into  rhythmic  recitative.  After  a 
while,  to  be  sure,  his  voice  deserted  him  completely  and 
he  began  to  whistle  in  a  full  tremolo.  That  at  all  events 
was  more  agreeable  to  listen  to  than  his  diabolical  sing- 
ing, although  of  course,  it  was  more  difficult  to  follow 
the  progress  of  the  drama  than  before,  despite  his  faulty 
rendering  of  the  text. 

After  paying  strict  attention  for  half  an  hour,  Pierian 
Mayr  was  unable  to  make  either  head  or  tail  to  it,  al- 
though he  repeatedly  sought  enlightenment  from  the 
book.  At  last  with  a  gesture  of  appeal  he  turned  to 
the  maiden  of  the  dark  locks  and  this  remarkable  crea- 
ture, without  having  followed  the  book  at  all,  was 
actually  able  to  find  the  passage  they  had  just  reached. 
Obviously  she  knew  the  composition  almost  by  heart. 
Florian  would  have  been  glad  to  question  her  more 
closely  concerning  the  uncanny  relations  between  Satan 
and  the  saint  but  his  very  first  attempt  to  whisper  a 
question  to  her  was  rebuked  with  a  look  so  threatening 
that  he  abandoned  his  presumptuous  undertaking. 
Strange,  that  threatening  look!  It  was  aimed  at  him 
and  had  hit  him,  that  he  felt,  but  yet  it  had  glanced  by 
him  at  an  angle  of  some  forty  degrees.  The  dark  girl 
with  the  face  of  a  martyr  was  crosseyed!  Too  bad, 
with  her  gentle  anaemic  beauty!  Florian  had  seated 
himself  on  a  foot  rest  close  by  her  and  was  lost  in  the 
contemplation  of  her  extremely  fine  profile.  On  the 
other  side  of  her  sat  a  gentleman  who,  it  was  clear,  was 


80  Florian  Ma^r 

zealously  engaged  in  the  same  occupation,  a  tall,  slender 
man  with  dark  hair,  reddish  Henri-quatre  beard,  black 
eyebrows  that  grew  together,  and  with  spectacles  upon 
a  nose  that  was  too  short.  The  gentleman  seemed  to  be 
wholly  engrossed  in  the  dark  girl  and  little  interested 
in  Satan.  Florian  Mayr,  too,  felt  less  and  less  under 
the  ban  of  the  whistling,  hoarsely  groaning  Titan  who 
was  now  pounding  the  piano  almost  with  his  fists.  As 
a  confirmed  Wagnerite  and  an  enthusiastic  devotee  of 
Liszt,  he  had  a  well-trained  stomach,  capable  of  di- 
gesting prodigious  masses  of  sound;  nevertheless  after 
half  an  hour  of  attentive  listening  even  his  nervous  sys- 
tem began  to  rebel  energetically  against  Satan's  music. 
In  fact  Peter  Gais  was  in  music  a  man  of  the  violent  pas- 
sions: Hate,  Vengeance,  Rage,  Lust,  Scorn,  these  he 
knew  how  to  depict  in  glaring  but  nevertheless  im- 
pressive colors,  but  he  almost  entirely  lacked  the  ability 
to  express  the  tender  emotions.  The  pious  ecstasy  of 
the  saint  which  came  in  the  second  scene  proved  to  be 
pitifully  trivial,  and  the  chorus  of  Christians  sounded 
like  the  monotonous  sing-song  of  some  amateur  musical 
club.  It  was,  therefore,  not  surprising  that  very  soon 
this  music  should  tire  the  listener,  especially  one  trained 
in  the  modern  school  to  whom  homophonic  music  dealing 
only  with  harmonic  and  dynamic  effects,  made  no  ap- 
peal ;  it  must  all  produce  a  brutal  effect  upon  the  nerves 
and  even  the  most  good-natured  nerves  cannot  long 
endure  that  sort  of  thing.  At  first  Florian  Mayr  him- 
self was  dazzled  by  the  wealth  of  color  in  this  genuinely 
dramatic  music;  then  for  a  time  he  had  admired  the 
profuse  flow  of  invention  that  could  originate  such  strik- 
ingly characteristic  motifs ;  but  now  he  was  hungry  and 
thristy  for  polyphonies,  for  some  intricate  contrapuntal 


Satan  81 

work.  All  of  this  had,  so  to  speak,  been  dumped  out; 
titanic,  to  be  sure,  just  as  great  masses  of  rock  are  im- 
pressive, piled  in  wild  confusion  one  on  top  of  the 
other  as  a  good  honest  earthquake  in  its  wrath  will 
sometimes  heap  them  up  but  for  the  finer  handiwork  of 
God  who  causes  the  tenderest  little  plants  to  twine  and 
blossom  around  the  huge  bowlders,  Peter  Gais  was 
painfully  lacking  in  appreciation. 

For  an  hour  and  a  quarter  Florian  Mayr  had  been 
doing  his  best;  he  could  listen  no  longer.  He  sat  and 
admired  the  dark-haired  girl,  who  still  continued  to 
stare  fixedly,  so  pale  and  serious,  with  her  chin  thrown 
forward,  one  eye  on  the  composer  and  the  other  some- 
where around  the  corner  to  the  left;  she  did  not  allow 
herself  to  be  disturbed  in  the  slightest  degree  by  the 
circumstance,  which  would  have  brought  blushes  to  the 
face  of  any  normal  young  girl,  namely,  that  she  was 
sitting  in  the  cross-fire,  as  it  were,  of  the  admiring 
glances  of  two  men,  one  to  the  right  of  her,  the  other 
to  the  left.  Florian  now  found  time  also  to  bestow 
some  attention  upon  the  other  guests.  He  discovered  a 
few  familiar  faces  among  them;  most,  however,  were 
strangers  to  him.  Enthroned  on  the  sofa,  erect  and 
scrupulously  rigid,  sat  a  rotund  little  elderly  lady  with 
the  face  of  a  small  pullet,  youthfully  smooth  and  in- 
finitely goodnatured.  She  blushed  when  anyone  looked 
at  her  and  from  time  to  time  she  heaved  a  gentle  long- 
drawn  sigh.  It  was  the  composer's  mother.  Beside 
her,  reclining  comfortably  in  the  corner  of  the  sofa,  her 
legs  crossed,  sat  a  young  lady  whom  Florian  had  re- 
cently heard  play  at  the  Singakademie,  Ilonka  Badacs, 
an  Hungarian  pianist,  who,  to  advertise  her  concert, 
had  called  herself  a  favorite  pupil  of  Liszt, —  at  which 


82  Florian  Mayr 

moreover  Herr  Mayr  had  really  taken  serious  offence, 
for  he  perceived  that,  although  she  had  temperament, 
she  was  unpardonably  careless  of  her  technique.  Ilonka 
Badacs  had  wickedly  wide,  ivory-black  eyes  with  whites 
of  pure  porcelain,  a  large  sensual  mouth,  glorious 
teeth,  a  genuine  Magyar  cut  of  countenance,  and  a 
frightful  quantity  of  powder  on  a  complexion  thai  was 
not  very  clear.  In  an  armchair  next  to  her  sat  a  cor- 
pulent songstress  with  a  pug  nose,  looking  pleased  and 
unenlightened.  Another  young  lady,  tall,  raw-boned, 
slim,  and  very  intelligent-looking,  sat  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  round  table.  She  was  a  young  singer  who 
had  recently  attracted  attention  by  her  splendid  con- 
tralto voice.  Gentlemen  were  in  the  majority :  besides 
the  already  mentioned  profile-admirer  with  the  red- 
dish Henri-quatre,  there  were  five  very  young  lads  and 
a  middle-aged  gentleman  in  a  velvet  jacket,  the  very 
type  of  a  handsome  man  with  flowing  hair,  a  dark 
mustache,  and  a  lofty  brow.  He  looked  altogether 
too  intelligent  to  be  a  tenor;  he  might  perhaps  be  a 
violinist.  Finally,  the  only  old  man  present,  and 
doubtless  the  guest  of  honor,  was  the  conductor  of  the 
Royal  opera,  a  stout,  thickset  person  with  a  bald  head, 
mixed  gray  beard,  spectacles,  and  a  red  nose. 

Satan,  the  introduction  to  the  tetralogy  Man,  had 
only  one  act  —  but  what  an  act  that  was !  When,  after 
an  hour  and  a  half  of  hard  work,  the  composer  rose 
from  the  piano  stool  exhausted  and  asked  for  a  short 
rest,  only  about  half  of  the  task,  according  to  the  in- 
formation vouchsafed  by  the  dark-haired  girl,  had  been 
surmounted.  Everybody  got  up  and  stretched, —  no- 
body knew  what  to  say.  Raphael  Silberstein  stood 
awkwardly  leaning  over  his  genius  of  a  friend,  still 


Satan  83 

overtopping  him  by  two  heads,  and  he  pressed  his  hand 
in  silence.  He  doubtless  thought  that  the  general 
speechlessness  meant  that  all  were  awestruck.  Then 
on  tip-toe  but  with  squeaking  boots  he  glided  over  to 
the  guest  of  honor  and  whispered  radiantly :  "  Well, 
what  do  you  say  to  that,  Herr  Hofkapellmeister  ? " 

The  stout  old  official,  the  last  to  rise,  now  struggled 
out  of  his  comfortable  chair,  held  his  hand  before  his 
mouth,  and  whispered  up  to  the  towering  Silberstein: 
"  Yes,  yes,  that  was  pretty  good.  But,  do  you  know, 
with  all  that  musical  hell-charm  one  gets  such  a  thirst 
—  now,  you  know,  if  I  could  get  a  glass  of  beer,  why 
that's  just  what  I'd  like ! "  This  conductor  was  a 
native  of  Munich  and  in  the  Imperial  capital  he  made 
a  special  point  of  playing  this  part  of  an  aboriginal 
Bavarian  both  in  speech  and  in  manners. 

Raphael  Silberstein  whispered  that  a  light  repast  as 
well  as  something  to  drink  had  been  provided  and  then 
humbly  asked  the  composer  if  he  would  allow  the  com- 
pany to  partake  of  a  little  bodily  refreshment.  He 
then  threw  open  the  folding  doors  which  led  to  the  ad- 
joining room  and  with  an  embarrassed  smile  and  in  a 
low  voice  invited  his  guests  to  help  themselves  to  sand- 
wiches, beer,  and  punch. 

In  the  midst  of  the  general  movement  towards  the 
dining-room,  Raphael  Silberstein  seized  Florian  Mayr 
by  the  arm  and  led  him  up  to  the  composer  who  still 
stood  by  the  piano,  wiping  the  perspiration  from  his 
brow.  He  made  the  two  gentlemen  acquainted. 

"  I've  already  had  the  honor  once,"  said  Florian. 
"  I  don't  know  if  you  still  remember  — " 

Peter  Gais  nodded  and,  smiling  absentmindedly,  gave 
Florian  his  hand. 


84  Florian  Mayr 

It  was  now  necessary  to  say  something;  but  how 
formulate  a  judgment  in  such  haste?  Florian  looked 
down  at  his  boots  and  up  at  the  ceiling ;  at  last  he  burst 
out :  "  My  God,  how  you  did  sweat !  " 

Peter  Gais  smiled  ironically.  "  You  are  quite  right, 
Herr ?  "  he  said  sharply. 

"  My  name  is  Mayr,"  said  Florian  a  little  sheep- 
ishly. "  But,  for  a  fact,  you  made  hell  so  hot, —  mu- 
sically, I  mean, — 'twould  have  been  no  wonder  if  we'd 
all  been  sweating.  That's  the  sort  of  music,  ha!  ha! 
It  fairly  gives  out  heat,  ha!  ha!  magnificent!  Now, 
do  we  get  to  heaven  next  ?  " 

The  composer  shrugged  his  shoulders  impatiently 
and  with  a  frown  turned  to  his  faithful  Kaphael.  "  My 
dear  friend,  it  seems  to  me  you  have  not  prepared  your 
guests  properly.  This  gentleman  has  no  idea  whatever 
—  please,  won't  you  address  yourself  to  the  librettist  ?  " 

Herr  Silberstein  hurried  away  to  drag  the  poet  out 
of  the  crowd  around  the  buffet  The  poet  came.  He 
was  carrying  a  glass  of  punch;  a  piece  of  bread  and 
sausage  had  just  disappeared  into  his  extraordinarily 
large  mouth.  A  second  piece  of  sausage  he  held  in  his 
hand.  His  head  was  shaped  like  a  rather  sharp-pointed 
gourd  and  by  far  the  greater  part  of  it  consisted  of 
forehead.  On  top  of  the  highest  peak  of  this  brow 
rose  a  thicket  of  pale  blond  bristles  and  on  each  half  of 
his  upper  lip  some  five  or  seven  equally  blond  hairs 
twined  sinuously. 

"  May  I  make  the  gentlemen  acquainted :  Herr 
Florian  Mayr,  pianist,  Herr  Emanuel  Schrempf  of 
Konigsberg,  the  author  of  the  drama." 

Thereupon  the  host  hastened  away  to  drag  forth  an- 
other victim  and  force  him  to  pass  judgment 


Satan  85 

Florian  maintained  that  this  meeting  with  the  writer 
of  Satan  gave  him  extraordinary  pleasure.  To  this 
civility  Herr  Schrempf  was  for  the  moment  unable  to 
respond,  as  it  was  first  necessary  to  remove  the  obstruc- 
tion of  sausage  from  his  throat.  He  chewed  with  ac- 
celerated speed,  raised  his  glass  to  Florian,  and  with 
an  effort  said :  "  Pros't ! "  The  acquaintanceship 
was  thus  begun  in  due  form.  In  order  to  respond  to 
the  amiable  poet's  toast  Florian  had  to  procure  some- 
thing to  drink.  In  doing  this  he  found  himself  be- 
side the  dark-haired  girl  and  he  offered  to  pour  out  a 
glass  of  punch  for  her. 

"  If  you  like,"  replied  the  fair  one  curtly.  Then 
she  turned  again  to  the  gentleman  with  the  reddish 
whiskers  with  whom  she  had  been  conversing.  "  It's 
the  highest  time  anyhow,"  Florian  heard  her  say,  "  that 
Wagner  was  superseded." 

The  gentleman  smiled  ironically  as  he  replied: 
."  Would  it  not  be  better  to  wait  and  see  what  Wagner 
himself  can  give  us  ?  You  know,  we  still  have  Parsifal 
to  look  forward  to  in  Bayreuth." 

"Oh,  fudge!  Parsifal!"  retorted  the  girl,  turning 
up  her  nose,  "  Christian  mysticism,  asceticism,  senile 
impotence !  " 

"  Good  heavens !  "  exclaimed  the  gentleman,  "  why 
you're  as  bitter  as  gall." 

Florian  at  this  juncture  handed  her  the  filled  glass 
and  said,  laughing :  "  According  to  that  then  we 
might  as  well  kill  off  all  our  great  artists  between  the 
ages  of  fifty  and  sixty  ?  You  are  radical,  by  Jove ! 
But  do  you  know,  Fraulein,  I'm  willing  to  maintain 
that  there's  a  line  of  limitation  on  the  side  of  youth- 
fulness  also." 


86  Florian  Mayr 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  "  inquired  the  somber 
maiden.  Her  voice  was  sweet  and  winsome  and  just 
a  little  bit  clouded. 

"  I  think  this  gentleman  understands  me,"  answered 
Florian,  indicating  the  reddish  whiskers.  The  gentle- 
men introduced  themselves.  The  reddish  whiskers 
called  himself  Baron  von  Hied.  He  was  a  young 
author  whose  name  had  recently  become  generally 
known  through  a  humorous  sketch  of  his  about  a  pair 
of  old  trousers.  His  intimates,  however,  were  aware 
that  he  himself  was  inclined  to  place  a  higher  estimate 
upon  his  talents  as  a  composer  than  upon  those  as  an 
author. 

In  fact  he  was  a  dilettante  in  all  the  arts,  played 
seven  instruments,  spoke  seven  languages,  and  acknowl- 
edged seven  different  fatherlands. 

"  Shall  we  tell  her  ?  "  asked  the  complex  and  versatile 
baron  in  a  bantering  tone,  as  he  winked  at  Florian 
Mayr  and  jerked  his  thumb  in  the  direction  of  the 
little  maiden. 

"  Oh  dear !  If  you  only  want  to  make  fun  of  me, 
I'd  rather  go  away,"  snapped  the  dark-haired  one. 
"  It's  a  great  pity  anyhow  that  a  genius  like  Gais  should 
scatter  his  pearls  before  people  like  you." 

"  Well,  I  like  that !  "  exclaimed  the  baron  involun- 
tarily and  Florian  Mayr  said  with  a  good-humored 
laugh :  "  All  right,  let's  be  friends  and  call  each  other 
by  our  first  names." 

But  the  girl  of  the  dark  hair  tried  to  get  away ;  she 
was  in  a  rage;  the  baron,  however,  held  her  firmly 
by  the  hand  and  said  with  kindly  decision :  "  Stop ! 
That  won't  do  at  all.  You'll  stay  right  here.  And 
now,  if  you  please,  you  sweet  little  wildcat,  let  us  have 


Satan  87 

your  answer  to  one  question.  How  is  it  possible  to  be 
such  a  charming  girl  with  such  a  pale,  inscrutable 
Medusa-head,  and  such  mysterious  eyes  —  Oh  Lord ! 
Oh  Lord !  Do  you  know  what  you  are  destined  for  I  " 

"  To  listen  to  stale  flattery  ?  " 

"  Stale  or  not, —  that  too.  But  your  real  destiny  ia 
to  lie  upon  a  white  bearskin,  clad  in  black  velvet  with 
bare  arms  and,  if  possible,  bare  feet  in  very  small 
slippers  and  to  play  with  a  small  black  panther.  May 
I  be  permitted  to  present  you  with  the  polar  bear's 
skin  the  next  time  I  get  a  good-sized  check  from  my 
publishers  ? " 

The  dark-haired  maiden  replied  without  change  of 
expression :  "Do  you  think  to  intoxicate  me  with  such 
nonsense,  Baron  ?  You  have  begun  much  too  late. 
Men  have  no  more  power  over  me." 

"  The  deuce !     Why,  how  old  are  you  if  I  may  ask  ?  " 

"  Eighteen, —  old  enough  to  have  completely  done 
with  men.  You  know  very  well,  you  can't  deny  it, 
that  you  are  all  animals  where  we  women  are  concerned, 
if  only  we  are  young  and  beautiful.  How  can  anyone 
seriously  concern  herself  with  a  class  of  human  beings 
that  have  remained  so  far  behind  in  their  develop- 
ment?" 

"  My  poor  child,  what  men  you  must  have  met !  " 
said  the  baron  in  a  kindly  tone  with  sudden  earnestness. 

"  Men  ?  "  she  burst  out.  "  Only  two, —  the  rest  are 
monkeys.  But  I  know  the  creative  genius  and  I  know 
the  feeling,  sympathetic  heart;  that's  enough  for  me." 
With  these  weighty  words  she  slipped  away  between 
the  two  men  and  joined  a  group  in  the  other  corner  of 
the  room. 

"  By  the  creative  genius  of  course  she  means  Peter 


88  Florian  Mayr 

Gais,"  whispered  the  baron  to  Florian  Mayr,  "  and  the 
feeling  sympathetic  heart  is  her  own  father." 

"Who  is  her  father?" 

"  Hush,  softly !  There  he  stands,  the  handsome  man 
in  the  velvet  jacket.  Didn't  you  know  the  girl  ?  Her 
name  is  Libussa  Tomatschek.  Her  father  is  the  cele- 
brated violinist,  Toby  Tomatschek.  He  doesn't  play 
any  more,  it's  true ;  hasn't  for  a  long  time  but  Joachim 
and  Sarasate  e  tutti  qwanti  are  nothing  but  lousy  little 
boys  beside  him ;  this  statement  he  will  be  very  glad  to 
confirm  if  you  ask  him.  Now  the  man  writes  musical 
criticisms, —  rather  flowery  but  on  the  whole  not  bad." 

"  And  the  girl  ?  "  inquired  Florian. 

"  Well,  you  see  what  she  is.  He  has  completely 
turned  her  head.  She's  simply  unendurable,  the  little 
toad,  and  yet  she  could  be  so  charming  if  youth  and 
charm  and  reason  and  everything  had  not  been  driven 
out  of  her  by  this  'genius'  craze  in  which  she  was 
brought  up.  And  now  the  '  creative  genius '  will 
probably  give  her  the  final  blow.  Just  think  of  it,  her 
great  sympathetic  heart  she  has  placed  at  the  disposal 
of  the  Titan  Gais,  and  acts  as  nurse  for  his  wife  and 
children, —  this  child  of  eighteen!  Did  you  notice 
her  little  numbed  hands  ?  She  no  longer  gets  even  her 
night's  rest;  she  looks  starved,  too.  The  Titan  treats 
her  like  a  dog,  they  say,  and  she  in  return  for  this 
worships  him.  Naturally  his  wife  is  jealous  — .  See, 
there  sits  mamma  Gais,  the  poor  little  hen.  She  goes 
through  life  sighing  and  she  is  so  in  love  with  her 
great  son !  As  recompense,  of  course,  she's  shamefully 
maltreated.  Oh,  it  must  be  a  fine  vocation  to  be  a 
Titan's  mother !  " 

Florian  Mayr  listened  attentively.     "  When  I  hear 


Satan  89 

things  like  that,"  he  said  thoughtfully,  "  it  always 
makes  my  right  hand  itch.  I  believe  that's  what's  the 
matter  with  mankind  to-day:  it  doesn't  get  pummeled 
enough.  By  the  way,  didn't  you  write  an  article  a 
little  while  ago  about  the  Titan  ?  It  seems  to  me  I 
saw  your  name  to  it." 

"  Yes,  I  did,"  replied  the  baron.  "  I  cannot  deny 
it,  I  was  a  bit  overhasty.  When  I  wrote  that  about  the 
Titan,  I  hadn't  heard  Satan." 

"  Well,  what  do  you  think  of  him  ?  In  that  article 
you  gave  him  a  tremendous  puff." 

"  Yes,  and  I  do  really  think  that  the  man  has  the 
makings  of  a  genius  in  him,  but  it  is  unfortunate  for 
him  that  his  works  could  not  have  been  brought  before 
the  public  properly.  As  it  is,  he  has  lost  all  power  of 
self-criticism,  while  the  few  he  always  has  around  him, 
immature  young  men  and  crazy  females,  adore  him  un- 
conditionally and  have  cultivated  in  him  a  species  of 
madness,  a  big  head,  which  probably  soon  enough  will 
ruin  his  creative  power  entirely.  Do  you  imagine 
that  my  article  satisfied  him  in  the  least?  His  poor 
mother  came  to  thank  me  with  tears  of  joy  in  her  eyes 
but  the  great  Peter  has  obviously  considered  me  ever 
since  more  of  a  cretin  than  ever  and  Raphael  Silberstein 
under  the  pseudonym  of  '  Germanicus '  has  already 
made  sport  of  me  and  my  article  in  the  papers.  You 
know,  there  is  a  sheet  in  which  '  Germanicus '  is  per- 
mitted to  make  his  offerings  at  the  shrine  of  Peter 
Gais  without  restraint.  Well,  and  our"  friend  Silber- 
stein —  do  you  know  him  at  all  intimately  ? " 

"  No,  I  only  know  that  he  plays  the  piano  very  well 
but  very  coldly." 

"  Yes,  well,  you  see,  that  is  another  remarkable  char- 


90  Florian  Mayr 

acter.  The  young  man  is  incredibly  industrious.  His 
whole  life  long  he  has  worked  and  struggled, —  against 
his  parents,  against  his  talents,  against  his  race, —  his 
life  has  been  one  ceaseless  exhausting  battle  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  as  a  well-to-do  independent  man  he 
might  have  had  things  so  comfortable.  He  is  an  idealist 
and,  if  I  read  him  aright,  a  candidate  for  suicide. 
Because  he  had  great  technical  gifts  for  piano  playing, 
he  thought  he  was  a  born  musician  but  his  parents 
would  not  hear  of  it.  So  he  took  up  Egyptology  and 
became  a  scholar.  He  took  his  doctor  degree  at  twenty- 
two  and  now  he  wants  to  qualify  here  as  instructor. 
Meanwhile,  however,  both  his  parents  have  died  and  he 
has  yielded  once  more  to  his  passion  for  music;  he  is 
quite  aware  that  he  is  not  a  creative  artist  but  now  he 
hopes  to  get  into  the  history  of  music  in  the  tow  of  a 
genius.  Gais  can't  endure  him,  makes  fun  of  him  con- 
stantly, but  he  accepts  his  pecuniary  assistance  just 
the  same.  The  clouds  of  incense  with  which  the  poor 
young  fellow  envelopes  him  he  sniffs  up  graciously. 
The  worst  of  it  is  that  the  good  Kaphael  understands 
music  a  good  deal  too  well  not  to  find  out  some  day  that 
he  has  over-estimated  his  idol  and  the  awakening  will 
be  a  terrible  thing  for  him.  I'm  afraid  he'll  hang  him- 
self, if  he  doesn't  go  into  a  monastery.  It  was  Gais's 
music,  you  know,  that  converted  him  to  Christianity." 

At  this  point  the  conversation  was  interrupted  by 
Fraulein  Ilonka  Badacs,  the  Hungarian  pianist,  who 
came  up  to  them  and  wanted  to  know:  "Who  was 
maiden  crazy  with  one  large  eye  straight  out  and  one 
large  eye  alongside?"  She  spoke  brokenly  with  a 
•trong  Hungarian  accent 

The  baron  informed  her  briefly  about  Libussa  Tomat- 


Satan  91 

schek  whereupon  Fraulein  Ilonka  took  him  by  the 
waistcoat  button  with  pleasant  familiarity  and  said; 
"  Do  you  know,  my  dear  Baron,  how  maiden  crazy  must 
be  cured?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  think  I  know  a  remedy,"  replied  the 
baron  laughing. 

"  Ah,  bravo !  You  have  understood  me.  Go  —  you 
make  up  to  her." 

"  Must  it  be  at  once,  Fraulein  Badacs  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes.  I  so  sorry  for  poor  little  kitten.  If 
you  make  her  again  well  very  soon,  I  show  you  some- 
thing pretty." 

"  Ah,  I  know, —  probably  little  foot  yours  ?  "  said  the 
Baron,  imitating  her  manner  and  laying  his  finger 
knowingly  upon  his  nose. 

Proud  and  radiant,  Fraulein  Ilonka  seized  the 
abashed  Florian  Mayr  by  the  arm  and  said :  "  Look 
at  that,  my  dear  sir,  so  famous  is  my  pretty  foot,  baron 
has  already  heard  of  it.  What  is  your  name,  my  dear 
sir?" 

"  Florian  Mayr,  at  your  service." 

"  Florian  Mayr  —  ?  Oh,  you  very  famous  too.  I've 
heard  of  you.  At  my  concert  you  have  said  to  a 
gentleman  that  I  play  like  little  pig  but  have  fire  of 
the  devil.  The  gentleman  told  me, —  he  was  dear  friend 
of  mine." 

Florian  laughed  outright.  "  Well,  I  say,  that  is 
rough;  I  was  fairly  caught  that  time.  Are  you  very 
angry  with  me  ?  " 

"Why,  of  course  not, —  among  professional  col- 
leagues—  !  I've  been  told  you  play  very  finely  — 
grand  style  —  is  it  true  ?  " 

Florian  shrugged  his  shoulders.     "  Judge  for  your- 


92  Florian  Mayr 

self.  Perhaps  there'll  be  an  opportunity  some  time.  I 
shall  be  glad  to  play  for  you." 

"  All  right, —  shall  be  delighted.  -Where  you  live, 
Herr  Mayr?" 

He  gave  her  his  address  and  added :  "  Will  you 
write  me  when  and  where  I  may  meet  you  some  day  ?  " 

"  Oh,  nonsense, —  I  come  see  you  if  I  don't  disturb 
you." 

"  Then  you  would  have  to  come  in  the  morning  be- 
fore ten  or  in  the  evening  after  six,"  replied  Florian 
slightly  embarrassed.  "  During  the  day  I  have  a  great 
many  lessons  to  give.  That  is, —  I'm  not  exactly  in 
shape  to  receive  ladies." 

"  That's  nothing  —  among  colleagues."  This  ended 
the  matter  so  far  as  she  was  concerned,  so  she  jumped 
to  another  topic.  "  Tell  me,  Herr  Mayr,  what  do  you 
think  of  Peter  Gais?  Honestly  —  he  has  fire  of  the 
devil  too  —  I  was  carried  away,  of  course,  but,  you 
know,  I  not  at  all  like  to  give  him  a  kiss,  not  for  ten 
gulden!" 

"  At  that  price  I'd  not  do  it  myself,"  rejoined  Florian, 
laughing.  Then  they  entered  into  a  serious  conversa- 
tion about  the  composition  they  had  just  heard  and  in 
the  course  of  this  the  sprightly  Hungarian  displayed 
excellent  musical  taste  and  judgment.  Suddenly  she 
threw  out  the  question :  "  Tell  me,  Herr  Mayr,  have 
you  not  been  with  Liszt  yet  ? " 

He  had  not  dared  as  yet,  he  said  and  again  felt  em- 
barrassed. He  gave  enthusiastic  expression  to  his  rev- 
erence for  the  great  Master  and  then  with  eager  curiosity 
asked  her  how  she  had  managed  to  get  at  him  and  if 
she  really  were  a  favorite  pupil  of  his. 


Satan  93 

"  But,  dear  Herr  Mayr,"  she  replied,  "  that  is  very 
simple.  I  went  there  and  I  played  for  the  Master." 

"  Well,  and  then  did  he  right  away  —  ?  " 

"  Then  the  Master  laughed  very  friendly  —  oh,  he 
is  such  a  dear, —  and  he  patted  me  on  cheeks  and  all 
around  and  said:  'Brava!  brava!  Pussta!  Bold- 
ness! I  like  it  much  —  Eljen!'  I  laughed  too.  He 
said  I  had  very  pretty  teeth.  I  begged  him  very 
sweetly  to  let  me  stay.  I  didn't  understand  what  he 
said  but  I  stayed.  I  studied  hard  and  learned  lots. 
Three  years  I  go  around  with  him, —  Rome, —  Buda- 
pest,—  Weimar.  I  had  a  little  money  and  when  little 
money  was  gone  dear  Master  paid  for  everything.  O, 
the  Master  is  so  very  good  man !  He  always  gave  me 
recommendations  for  concert  and  said  I  was  his  bete 
noire,  une  jolie  bete  a  pattes  mechantes.  Now  can  I 
call  myself  his  favorite  pupil  ? " 

They  had  got  thus  far  when  Raphael  Silberstein  in- 
terrupted the  eating,  drinking,  and  chatting  with  the 
request  that  all  should  return  to  the  music  room  to  hear 
the  second  part  of  Satan.  Florian  Mayr  felt  an  un- 
easy conscience  when  he  thought  of  the  composer  be- 
cause he  had  not  made  use  of  the  interval  to  inform 
himself  properly  concerning  the  text.  In  going  out  he 
caught  the  poet  and  begged  for  a  condensed  explana- 
tion which  might  serve  at  a  pinch. 

In  conclusion  Herr  Schrempf  added :  "  I  beg  you, 
Herr  Mayr,  not  to  judge  me  by  this  text ;  it  is  the  out- 
come of  very  singular  circumstances.  Herr  Gais  gave 
me  no  freedom  at  all.  He  changed  everything  about. 
Then  he  would  sit  down  at  the  piano  and  play  and 
screech  and  rage, —  that's  the  way  he  wanted  it,  that's 


94  Florian  Mayr 

the  way  I'd  got  to  write  it.     It  is  really  nothing  but 
words  furnished  for  music  which  was  already  written." 

"  Why  did  you  put  up  with  it  ? " 

"  Oh,  you  know,  what  can  one  do  ?  After  all  Herr 
Gais  is  possessed  of  a  demon;  it's  impossible  to  op- 
pose him." 

"  Oh,  I  see." 

The  company  took  seats,  new  groups  were  formed, 
and  in  passing  Florian  heard  the  court-conductor  say 
to  the  composer  in  broad  Bavarian :  "  Yes,  yes,  yes, 
you're  right.  It's  a  horse's  work,  that  score!  All  re- 
spect !  When  the  general-intendant  sees  that,  he'll  fall 
right  off  the  perch,  don't  you  know  ?  Wagner  wouldn't 
have  been  given  at  the  opera  house  if  he'd  had  his  way." 

"  You  think,  then,  there  is  no  prospect  of  getting 
Satan  produced  at  the  opera  house  ? "  asked  Peter  Gais 
with  twitching  nostrils. 

"  Don't  forget,  I  beg  of  you,  Robert  the  Devil  is  still 
in  the  repertory!  However,  you  just  try  it;  perhaps 
the  general-intendant  will  propose  that  you  make  a 
ballet  out  of  it." 

Florian  made  his  own  comments  upon  all  this  as 
he  sought  out  a  place  between  Ilonka  Badacs  and  Baron 
von  Eied.  In  what  frame  of  mind  would  the  Titan 
take  up  the  further  rendering  of  his  work!  That  he 
had  composed  it  in  an  uninterrupted  fever  of  inspira- 
tion, drawing  upon  what  was  his  own  and  what  was 
universal,  not  in  stammering  imitation  nor  with  the 
laborious  patching  of  a  bungling  second-hand  talent,  that 
was  indisputable;  he  had  given  his  best  and,  putting 
forth  all  his  energy,  he  had  endeavored  to  perform  his 
work  for  this  company.  And  what  had  been  his  re- 
ward? One  had  told  him  how  terribly  he  was  sweat- 


Satan  95 

ing  and  another  had  acknowledged  that  it  was  "  horse's 
work  "  !  Most  of  them  had  said  nothing  at  all  but  had 
eaten  and  drunk  and  busied  themselves  with  their  own 
affairs.  And  these  were  the  more  considerate  ones,  for 
it  might  still  in  their  case  be  assumed  that  they  had  un- 
derstood as  long  as  they  had  not  deliberately  demon- 
strated the  contrary.  Raphael  Silberstein,  his  own 
mother,  and  a  few  of  the  very  young  people  did,  to  be 
sure,  worship  him  but  then  that  he  knew  beforehand. 
Yes,  in  this  moment,  Florian  Mayr  understood  what 
the  martyrdom  of  a  creative  artist  must  be,  of  one  to 
whom  it  was  denied  ever  to  produce  his  work  in  the 
form  in  which  he  had  planned  it  before  the  great 
public.  And  yet  each  separate  individual  of  these  cruel 
people  was  personally  innocent;  surely  there  was  not 
one  among  them  who  was  not  impressed  with  the  fact 
that  here  was  a  genuine  artist  expending  all  his  en- 
ergies to  wring  from  them  some  intelligent  apprecia- 
tion of  his  work.  Notwithstanding  this  no  one  was 
able  to  utter  anything  but  platitudes  which  could  only 
exasperate  him. 

Florian  sat  down  with  the  firm  purpose,  at  least  so 
far  as  he  was  concerned,  of  following  the  performance 
with  seriousness  and  respect ;  but  to  carry  out  this  pur- 
pose was  not  so  easy;  with  the  best  intentions  in  the 
world  he  could  not  help  growing  as  tired  and  distracted 
as  the  others.  Even  with  the  most  vivid  imagination 
it  was  impossible  to  supply  in  thought  the  lacking 
scenery,  the  human  voices,  and  the  varied  colors  of  the 
orchestra.  Another  half-hour  passed  and  he  caught 
himself  eagerly  awaiting  the  moment  when  Fraulein 
Ilonka's  celebrated  little  foot  should  again  peep  forth 
under  the  hem  of  her  skirt  and  at  that  moment  he  be- 


96  Florian  Mayr 

came  aware  that  the  baron  was  engaged  in  the  same 
interesting  occupation.  Fraulein  Ilonka  opened  her 
large  fan,  whispering  to  right  of  her  and  whispering 
to  left;  some  smiled,  some  snickered.  Libussa  Tomat- 
schek  threw  indignant  glances  around ;  the  little  hen  of 
a  mamma  sighed  and  grew  more  and  more  perturbed ; 
the  fat  songstress  yawned;  the  court-conductor  was  al- 
most asleep;  the  handsome  Tomatschek,  with  his  del- 
icately tapered  fingers,  pulled  at  his  eyelids  which  made 
a  soft  clicking  noise ;  some  of  the  young  men  took  refuge 
in  the  next  room  in  order  to  incorporate  the  remains  of 
the  repast,  and  Raphael  Silberstein  hitched  about  so 
nervously  on  the  outer  edge  of  his  chair  that  everyone 
was  watching  with  anxious  suspense  to  see  it  slip  out 
from  under  him. 

Amid  the  uproar  of  all  hell  the  curtain  descended 
upon  the  introduction  to  the  tetralogy  of  Man.  Satan 
had  fought  his  fight  to  a  finish  and  everybody  jumped 
up  as  if  redeemed.  Some  applauded  frantically;  all 
crowded  round  the  composer  to  relieve  themselves  of 
a  few  superlatives  which  had  just  occurred  to  them  or 
which  they  had  been  brooding  over  for  the  last  hour. 
But  all  were  in  great  haste  to  get  home;  they  thanked 
their  host  for  the  great  treat, —  and  ten  minutes  after 
the  end  of  Satan  the  whole  company  was  jostling  in 
the  corridor,  crawling  into  top-coats,  helping  the  ladies, 
and  feeling  in  their  purses  for  the  five-groschen  bits  to 
give  the  maid. 

It  was  half  past  eleven  but  when  Florian  Mayr 
reached  the  Luisenplatz  and  by  the  light  of  the  street 
lamp  in  front  of  his  door  looked  at  his  watch,  it  was  — 
half  past  two!  With  Baron  von  Eied  and  Ilonka 
Badacs  and  the  Tomatscheks,  father  and  daughter,  to- 


Satan  97 

gether  with  two  of  the  youngest  gentlemen  of  the  party, 
he  had  gone  to  a  restaurant.  The  result  of  the  whole 
evening  was  that  he  went  home  with  the  conviction  that 
he  had  never  met  a  woman  so  crazy  as  the  dark-haired 
girl  nor  one  so  amusing  as  Ilonka. 


CHAPTER  YI 
Katzen  jammer 

FBAU  STOLTENHAGEN  found  herself  next  morning  in  a 
state  of  no  little  excitement.  It  was  already  eight  o'clock 
and  Herr  Mayr  had  not  yet  shouted  into  the  hall 
for  his  hot  water.  At  half  past  eight  she  had  listened 
at  his  door,  but  without  hearing  a  sound.  At  nine 
o'clock  she  had  ventured  to  look  through  the  key-hole, 
and  even  to  knock  lightly  on  the  door,  but  in  both  cases 
without  result  And  now  it  was  half  past  nine,  and 
still  no  sign  of  life  from  behind  the  bolted  door.  Should 
she  send  for  the  locksmith  ?  Herr  Mayr  went  out  every 
day  without  exception  between  half  past  nine  and  a 
quarter  to  ten. 

A  little  before  ten  o'clock  a  good  looking  young  lady 
appeared  and  asked  to  see  Herr  Mayr.  The  young 
lady  was  cheaply  but  neatly  dressed,  and  looked  exactly 
like  one  with  whom  a  young  man  might  like  very  well 
to  establish  relations  of  a  certain  character,  the  daughter 
of  plain  but  worthy  people,  who  would  not  be  likely  to 
place  any  difficulties  in  the  way  of  a  young  artist. 
Frau  Stoltenhagen  was  dreadfully  excited.  Some- 
thing had  happened  to  her  Herr  Mayr  at  last ! 

"  So  you  want  to  see  Herr  Mayr  ?  "  she  queried  twice, 
in  answer  to  the  girl's  question,  surveying  her  from 
head  to  foot; 

"  Hm,  I  don't  know  whether  he's  at  home  or  not ;  I 
don't  believe  he's  up  yet." 

98 


Katzergammer  99 

"  Oh,  that  don't  make  any  difference,"  replied  the 
girl  coolly.  "  Just  tell  him  Marie  from  the  Mark- 
grafenstrasse  is  here.  Then  he'll  know  all  right." 

Frau  Stoltenhagen  opened  her  eyes  wide  and  gasped 
in  agitation.  "  Indeed !  Marie  from  the  Markgrafen- 
strasse.  Just  look  at  that!  I  wouldn't  dare  to  do  it. 
Besides  he's  locked  himself  in." 

"  Well  then,  just  let  me  go  in,  Missis.  He'll  let  me 
in  all  right."  And  without  waiting  for  an  answer  the 
girl  pushed  by  the  bewildered  landlady,  and  after  being 
shown  the  right  door,  knocked  energetically.  Frau 
Stoltenhagen,  her  niece  from  Pomerania,  and  the  serv- 
ant girl  stood  behind  her  open-mouthed. 

"  Kreuzdonnerwetter !  What  the  devil's  that !  Just 
let  me  alone,  will  you  ? "  growled  a  hoarse  and  angry 
voice  from  within. 

"  Thank  God,  he's  still  alive ! "  exclaimed  Frau 
Stoltenhagen.  "  I  really  thought  something  had  hap- 
pened to  him."  bearing  the  door  she  called  out  with 
soothing  amiability,  "  Don't  disturb  yourself,  Herr 
Mayr,  it's  only  the  Fraulein  Marie  from  the  Mark- 
grafenstrasse." 

"  Fraulein  Marie  may  go  to  —  somewhere  else. 
This  is  no  place  to  talk  to  me,"  growled  the  voice  from 
within  again. 

But  the  girl  was  not  to  be  put  off,  and  without  taking 
offense  she  called  out :  "  Herr  Mayr,  it's  me !  I've 
got  a  letter  from  Fraulein  and  I'm  to  wait  for  an 
answer."  And,  turning  to  the  inquisitive  females  be- 
hind her,  she  added  with  a  smile,  "  It's  only  about  the 
piano  lessons." 

The  voice  from  within :  "  What  does  she  want  any- 
how ?  What  Fraulein  ?  " 


100  Florian  Mayr 

"  Why  Fraulein  Thekla,  sir." 

"  Thekla?  Oh,  just  wait  a  bit;  I'll  be  there  in  a 
minute."  The  bed  creaked  within,  and  the  three  spec- 
tators of  the  household  of  Stoltenhagen  made  off  as  fast 
as  their  legs  could  carry  them,  the  niece  from  Pom- 
erania  whispering  in  feverish  excitement  to  her  aunt 
as  she  gave  the  latter  a  dig  in  the  side,  "  Did  you  hear 
that,  Aunty  ?  Her  name  is  Thekla !  " 

A  moment  later  the  door  was  opened  slightly,  and 
Florian  Mayr  thrust  his  paw  through  the  crack  and 
took  possession  of  the  letter.  Going  to  the  window,  he 
pulled  up  the  shade  and  endeavored  to  decipher  the 
epistle.  But  his  vision  was  not  yet  quite  in  order, 
and  his  legs  were  very  cold,  and  his  head  —  oh,  his 
head !  He  doused  it  into  ice-cold  water  and  sneezed 
and  snorted.  Then  he  slipped  on  a  few  of  the  most 
necessary  articles  of  clothing,  called  Marie  from  the 
Markgrafenstrasse  into  the  room,  and  begged  her  to 
be  seated.  He  thought  he  noticed  that  the  girl  looked 
at  him  strangely,  and,  glancing  into  the  mirror  as  he 
passed  it,  he  came  to  the  conclusion  that  she  was  right ! 
In  the  belief  that  he  owed  her  some  kind  of  explana- 
tion, he  remarked, 

"  Well,  Fraulein  Thekla  must  have  something  very 
important  to  communicate  if  she  has  to  wake  me  out 
of  my  morning's  nap." 

"  Why,  it's  ten  o'clock  already,  Herr  Mayr,"  laughed 
Marie. 

"  What's  that  ? "  he  cried  incredulously,  running 
for  his  watch,  which  lay  on  the  night-stand.  "  Well, 
upon  my  word,  half  past  four!  I  must  have  for- 
gotten to  wind  my  watch.  You  see,  Marie,  that's 
because  my  stomach  is  a  little  out  of  order  —  ow !  It' a 


Katzen  jammer  101 

pretty  bad  still !  "  And  turning  away,  he  slouched,  a 
bit  ashamed  of  himself,  to  a  chair  near  the  window 
and  proceeded  to  read  the  pale-blue  note  from  Fraulein 
Thekla.  It  ran  as  follows: 

"  Oh,  my  dear  Herr  Mayr,  I  am  quite  desperate  and  you 
must  help  me  somehow.  Just  think,  that  horrible  man 
(I  haven't  got  his  card  here  and  cannot  write  his  name 
without  it)  called  on  Ma  mm  a  again  this  afternoon  and 
told  her  that  he  had  met  us  together  in  the  street.  He 
said  you  were  a  very  dangerous  person,  that  is  what  he 
said,  and  were  notorious  for  trying  to  make  up  to  the 
young  ladies  whom  you  gave  lessons  to.  Mamma  said  to 
me  '  since  you  have  rendezvous  with  your  piano  teacher,  I 
shall  not  let  you  out  in  future/  And  how  do  you  think 
he  excused  himself  to  Mamma  for  not  wanting  to  give  me 
lessons  any  longer,  when  of  course  it  was  only  because  he 
was  afraid  of  the  thrashing  you  promised  him?  He  said 
I  made  such  an  impression  on  his  heart  the  very  first  time 
he  saw  me,  that  he  did  not  feel  it  consistent  with  his 
honor  and  his  conscience  to  ask  of  me  a  confidence  and 
trust  that  a  teacher  ought  to  demand!  Others  might  not 
feel  so  about  matters  of  conscience,  but  he,  as  a  member  of 
the  oldest  Polish  nobility,  was  sure  he  was  right  in  such 
a  case.  Mamma  was  quite  carried  away  by  so  much  deli- 
cacy, and  set  him  up  as  a  model  for  me,  so  that  I  could 
see  the  difference  between  such  a  man  and  you !  Wasn't 
that  horrid?  You  really  must  help  me,  dear,  good  Herr 
Mayr.  What  shall  I  do?  I  don't  believe  a  thrashing 
would  do  any  good,  he's  such  a  common  sort  of  person !  I 
rely  on  you  entirely,  and  please  send  me  an  answer  by 
Marie,  because  I  can't  get  out  any  more  to  get  your  let- 
ters from  the  post-office.  Please,  please,  do  not  abandon, 
Your  unhappy, 

THEKLA  BUEMESTEE. 

P.  S.—  Marie  knows  everything." 


102  Florian  Mayr 

Florian  let  his  hand  with  the  note  in  it  drop  languidly 
at  his  side,  rested  his  left  elbow  on  his  knee,  and  buried 
his  face  with  a  groan  in  his  mighty  hand.  For  a  long 
while  he  kept  silence,  rubbed  his  dishevelled  head  with 
his  long  fingers,  and  emitted  from  time  to  time  a  deep 
sigh.  At  last  the  good  Marie  became  impatient  and  in- 
quired whether  Herr  Mayr  would  not  give  her  a  few 
lines  in  answer  to  Fraulein  Thekla's  note. 

"  Write !  Kow  ?  Oh  —  ow !  I  —  never  write  be- 
fore breakfast." 

"  Well,  shall  I  take  her  any  message  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  please,  I  wish  you  would,"  replied  Florian. 
Rising  with  an  effort,  he  planted  himself  before  Marie 
with  his  legs  spread  apart,  and,  looking  down  upon  the 
girl  with  a  painful  expression,  he  appeared  to  await 
some  further  stimulation  of  his  thinking  powers  from 
her. 

Marie  smiled  intelligently.  "  You  don't  seem  to  be 
quite  well,  Herr  Mayr." 

He  grinned  with  forlorn  humor.  "  Oh,  I  don't  know, 
I  am  quite  well  bodily,  but  you  know  this  mental  ex- 
citement—  poor  Fraulein  Thekla!  A  thing  like  that 
always  gets  on  my  nerves  right  away.  What  would  you 
do  in  such  a  case,  Fraulein  Marie  ?  " 

"  Well,  they  do  say  as  a  herring  is  very  good  for  it" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  speak  of  myself ;  you're  not  making  fun 
of  me,  Marie,  are  you?  I  mean  Fraulein  Thekla, — 
what  shall  I  prescribe  for  her?  I  don't  understand 
very  well  how  to  treat  young  ladies  in  such  cases." 

Marie  grinned  knowingly.  "  Well,  Herr  Mayr,  if  I 
might  be  so  bold  as  to  say  it,  I  should  think  the  matter 
was  quite  simple.  Poor  Fraulein  Thekla  is  just  eating 
her  heart  out  because  she  can't  take  lessons  of  you 


Katzen  jammer  103 

any  more  nor  have  anything  more  to  do  with  you,  and 
now  she's  afraid  she'll  have  to  marry  that  Polish  gentle- 
man with  the  lovelocks  and  the  calf's  eyes,  and  she  just 
simply  can't  abide  him." 

"  I'd  like  to  whale  the  devil  out  of  that  fellow  1  " 
snarled  Florian. 

"  Oh,  don't  you  try  that  on,  sir;  that'll  cost  you 
money." 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Lord,  Herr  Mayr,  you  must  have  noticed  that  our 
Fraulein  is  dead  gone  on  you!  Well  then,  what's  to 
hinder  ?  Why  don't  you  marry  her  yourself  ?  " 

Florian  opened  his  eyes  wide  and  pointed  with  his 
gigantic  fore-finger  to  his  Herculean  breast.  "  Me  ?  " 

"  Well,  and  why  not  ?  "  continued  Marie  confiden- 
tially. "  The  Herr  Consul  and  our  mistress,  of  course, 
wouldn't  hear  of  it  for  a  moment,  but  that's  most 
usually  the  case,  ain't  it?  You're  a  musician  and 
the  old  lady  was  always  dead  gone  on  musicians. 
Well,  and  you  know  the  proverb,  '  With  patience  and 
spit  you  can  catch  a  nit ! '  Just  be  up  and  doin'  ! 
When  two  young  people  mean  to  have  each  other  the 
old  folks  have  to  give  in  sooner  or  later ;  and  it  wouldn't 
be  the  first  time  that  a  fine  Fraulein  ran  away  with  a 
piano  teacher,  would  it  now?  And  after  all  Fraulein 
Thekla  isn't  so  great  anyway!  I  suppose  you  know 
that  she  ain't  the  Burm esters'  real  child,  don't  you  ? 
What  ?  You  don't  know  that  ?  Why  of  course,  only 
adopted,  that's  all.  Her  people  were  quite  plain.  But 
even  if  she  shouldn't  happen  to  get  all  the  old  folks' 
money,  the  consul  is  a  very  kind  gentleman  after  all, 
and  he  ain't  goin'  to  let  her  starve,  I  can  tell  you." 

Marie  had  worked  herself  into  a  very  fever  of  en- 


104  Florian  Mayr 

thusiasm.  As  she  talked  she  rose  and  followed  the 
slowly  retreating  Florian  across  the  room  as  far  as  the 
sofa,  upon  which  he  sank  down  with  a  sigh.  He  rested 
his  head  on  his  hands  and  was  quite  incapable  of  tak- 
ing in  the  meaning  of  her  eloquence.  When  she  finally 
came  to  an  end,  he  gave  his  knee  a  slap,  and  the  table 
a  sounding  whack  with  his  fist. 

"  For  the  Lord's  sake  stop  that  cataract  of  crazy 
gabble!  "  he  shouted.  "  Did  Fraulein  Thekla  tell  you 
to  bring  me  any  such  message  as  that,  hey?  Well 
then,  just  keep  that  nonsense  to  yourself." 

"  Well  you  needn't  get  so  huffy  about  it !  "  cried  the 
girl  quite  offended.  "  That's  what  I  get  for  interest- 
ing myself  in  you.  I  suppose  I  can  just  go  home  now 
and  tell  Fraulein  Thekla  what  an  amiable  gentleman 
you  are!  Lyin'  abed  at  ten  in  the  morning  with  such 
a  nasty  head  on  you !  My  word !  I  don't  see  how  fine 
young  ladies  can  find  anything  interesting  in  people 
like  that  Well,  good-by,  Herr  Mayr!  You'd  better 
crawl  back  into  bed.  I  won't  trouble  you  any 
longer." 

"  My  Lord,  these  women !  Don't  get  your  back  up 
so  easy.  Just  consider  my  suffering  condition." 

He  tried  to  catch  her  by  the  skirt,  but  she  eluded  his 
grasp  and  retreated  to  the  door. 

"  Hgh !  Fraulein  Thekla's  in  a  suffering  condition 
too.  It's  enough  to  break  your  heart  to  see  her  wor- 
ryin'  herself  to  death,  and  you  won't  even  write  her  a 
couple  of  lines !  Well,  what'll  I  tell  her  ?  " 

Florian  got  up  from  the  lounge  groaning,  dragged 
himself  to  where  Marie  stood  and  said  weakly, 

"  Look  here,  my  dear  Marie,  I  wish  you'd  do  me  a 
great  favor.  I'll  hold  my  face  over  the  washbowl,  and 


Katzen  jammer  105 

you  take  the  pitcher  and  pour  the  water  over  my  head. 
Maybe  that  will  clear  my  brains  a  little." 

Marie  had  to  laugh.  "  My  word,  Herr  Mayr,  you  do 
ask  a  lot  o'  funny  things  of  a  body !  Well,  come  here 
then.  It  won't  hurt  your  head  to  get  a  good  dressing 
down  anyway !  "  And,  laying  aside  umbrella  and  muff, 
she  seized  the  heavy  water-can  and  poured  the  entire 
contents  over  his  throbbing  head,  as  he  had  desired. 
He  had  let  his  long  hair  fall  down  over  his  eyes,  and  the 
wet  locks  fairly  streamed  as  he  rubbed  his  face  with  a 
towel.  He  stood  there  bent  over  with  his  legs  apart 
dripping  like  a  damaged  gutter  after  a  shower,  when 
suddenly  there  came  a  sharp  knock  at  the  door,  and, 
without  waiting  for  an  invitation  to  enter,  a  tall  ma- 
jestic form,  attired  in  a  long  gray  havelock  and  a 
broad  brimmed  hat  of  brown  plush,  stalked  solemnly 
across  the  threshold. 

Florian  was  so  astonished  to  see  this  individual  in 
his  room  that  he  abruptly  interrupted  the  process  of 
drying  himself,  and  even  forgot  to  say  good-morning. 
But  as  he  felt  the  sting  of  the  cold  water  trickling 
down  his  back,  he  suddenly  came  to  himself  and  cried, 
as  he  resumed  the  shampooing  of  his  streaming  locks, 

"  Ah,  how  do  you  do,  Herr  Tomatschek !  Up  so 
early  ?  To  what  pray  do  I  owe  the  honor  ?  " 

The  visitor  was  indeed  no  other  than  Toby  Tomat- 
schek, the  "violin-king,"  and  even  in  the  gray  light 
of  this  winter  morning  he  was  still  the  handsome  man. 
The  prolonged  session  of  the  night  before  could  be 
traced  upon  his  patrician  features  only  in  the  form  of 
an  interesting  pallor.  Slowly  he  took  off  his  hat,  shook 
back  his  flowing  locks,  and  unbuttoning  his  havelock 
threw  it  open,  so  as  to  show  to  advantage  the  black 


106  Florian  Mayr 

velvet  jacket  beneath.  Then  he  knit  his  brows  and  — 
still  without  a  word  of  salutation  —  favored  Fraulein 
Marie  from  the  Markgrafenstrasse  with  a  critical  ex- 
amination. At  last  he  opened  the  conversation  with 
the  singular  question, 

"  Is  this  young  lady  a  member  of  the  family  ? " 
Then,  as  the  bewildered  Florian  answered  only  by  a 
stare,  he  continued  elucidatingly, 

"  I  mean  is  the  young  lady  a  near  relative  of  yours, 
since  I  find  her  here  in  this,  hm  —  somewhat  intimate 
situation  — *  ?  " 

"Hey?  What's  that  you  say?"  exclaimed  the  in- 
dignant Marie.  "What  are  you  givin'  me?  I'm  a 
respectable  girl,  do  you  understand  that  ?  That's  what 
I  get  for  my  good  nature !  And  you  stand  there,  Herr 
Mayr,  and  don't  say  a  blessed  word,  and  let  me  be  in- 
sulted right  here  in  your  own  house!  Oh,  well,  that's 
all  right!  I  can  go  home  and  tell  Fraulein  Thekla 
what  kind  of  a  gentleman  you  are,  and  what  goin's-on 
you  have  here !  And  all  your  serious  intentions  won't 
do  you  any  good  after  this,  I  can  tell  you.  Good  day, 
Herr  Mayr !  Any  other  message  you  want  to  send  ?  " 

"  I  say,  get  out  of  here,  will  you  ? "  shouted  Herr 
Mayr  in  a  rage.  "  And  you  tell  your  Fraulein  that  I 
am  very  sorry  she  keeps  a  monkey  for  a  maid.  So! 
Now  we  two  have  done  with  each  other !  " 

"  What  did  you  say  ?  Monkey,  did  you  say  ? " 
screamed  the  girl  in  the  open  door.  "  You  will  find  it 
hard  enough  to  speak  with  our  Fraulein  again;  you'd 
better  give  up  all  hopes  of  that !  That's  over  with !  " 
She  shook  her  umbrella  at  Florian  threateningly,  and 
then,  as  he  made  a  motion  to  accelerate  her  exit,  she 
hurried  out  and  slammed  the  door  behind  her. 


Katzen  jammer  107 

Florian  staggered  to  the  lounge,  giving  expression 
as  he  went  to  a  general  but  forcible  condemnation  of 
the  whole  weaker  sex.  He  took  the  wet  towel  and 
wound  it  round  his  head  like  a  turban.  Then  he  lay 
upon  the  lounge  staring  ruefully  before  him. 

Toby  Tomatschek  advanced  slowly,  leaned  one  hand 
on  the  table  in  front  of  the  sofa  and  said  in  solemn  tones, 

"  You  appear  to  be  a  very  dangerous  kind  of  Don 
Juan." 

"Who,  me?"  said  Florian  languidly.  "Well  I'll 
tell  you  what,  my  dear  Herr  Tomatschek,  if  you  feel 
so  well  after  the  affair  of  last  night,  I  congratulate 
you  sincerely ;  for  my  part,  I  am  not  at  all  in  the  mood 
for  bad  jokes." 

"  Neither  am  I,"  replied  the  handsome  man  with 
ominous  severity.  "  I  have  come  here  to-day,  sir,  to 
ask  you  whether  you  intend  to  marry  my  daughter." 

"  Wha-a-a-t  ?  By  no  manner  of  means !  Nothing 
is  further  from  my  mind,  my  -dear  Herr  Tomatschek !  " 
groaned  Florian,  writhing  about  on  the  sofa  with  an  ex- 
pression of  misery.  "  Oh  Lord,  my  head !  —  Where 
did  you  get  hold  of  that  idea  ? " 

Toby  Tomatschek's  noble  forehead  flushed,  but  be- 
fore he  had  time  to  give  tongue  to  his  indignation,  the 
door  was  thrown  open  and  upon  the  threshold,  muff  in 
one  hand  and  umbrella  held  threateningly  on  high  in 
the  other,  stood  Fraulein  Marie  from  the  Markgrafen- 
strasse,  behind  whom  in  the  hall  the  group  of  Stolten- 
hagen  ladies  and  the  servant  girl  were  visible. 

"  There's  just  one  thing  more  I  want  to  tell  you,  Herr 
Mayr !  "  yelled  the  indignant  maid  in  tones  rather  less 
melodious  than  vehement,  at  the  suffering  Florian ;  "  I 
ain't  used  to  such  treatment,  and  I  won't  stand  it,  and 


108  Florian  Mayr 

I'm  going  to  tell  my  mistress  that  you're  trying  to  run 
away  with  Fraulein  Thekla!  We've  got  that  in  your 
own  handwriting.  So,  Herr  Mayr,  now  good-by!  I 
don't  want  anything  more  to  do  with  such  a  gentleman 
as  you  are !  "  Bang !  flew  the  door  to  —  a  short  ex- 
cited exchange  of  words  without,  and  then  bang!  went 
the  outside  door. 

After  that  all  was  silence,  but  only  for  a  few  seconds. 
Then  Toby  Tomatschek,  seizing  the  chair  in  front  of 
him,  raised  it  a  few  inches  and  smashed  it  down  upon 
the  floor  so  hard  that  one  of  its  rickety  legs  broke  off 
short.  And  this  he  did  merely  to  give  expression  to  his 
bold  assertion  that  Florian  Mayr  was  a  very  dangerous 
Don  Juan. 

But  Florian  plucked  the  turban  from  his  head  and 
gripped  his  wet,  dishevelled  hair  with  his  ten  fingers  as 
if  he  would  pull  it  out, 

"  That's  nothing  more  or  less  than  an  infamous  lie !  " 
he  cried  in  despair.  "  Do  I  look  like  a  Don  Juan  ? 
Great  heavens  and  earth,  am  I  crazy  or  are  you  ?  Just 
tell  me  that !  " 

"  Sir,  have  you  no  conscience  at  all  ? "  thundered  the 
"  violin-king,"  as  he  gathered  his  havelock  together 
with  his  left  hand  and  raised  the  fore-finger  of  his 
right  with  a  threatening  gesture.  "  Or  is  your  memory 
as  short  as  all  that?  Here  is  one  young  lady  whom 
you  intend  to  abduct,  while  my  daughter,  sir,  you're 
trying  to  seduce.  You  do  not  seem  to  be  aware  with 
whom  you  have  to  do,  Herr  Mayr.  I,  whom  you  see 
standing  before  you  now,  I  have  played  before  all  the 
crowned  heads  of  Europe.  This  scarf-pin  was  given 
to  me  by  the  Empress  Eugenie.  No  one  shall  make  up 
to  my  child  with  impunity,  sir !  " 


Katzerg'ammer  109 

"  Who  in  the  devil  wants  to  make  up  to  her  ?  "  queried 
Florian  with  a  sigh. 

"  You !  "  shouted  the  "  violin-king  "  with  a  crushing 
look.  "You  have  not  even  forborne  to  communicate 
your  wicked  intentions  to  my  child  herself." 

At  this  a  smile  flitted  across  Florian's  worried 
features.  He  leaned  over  the  table  and  gave  a  tug  at 
the  handsome  Tomatschek's  havelock.  "  Look  here, 
that's  a  pretty  good  joke.  That  wasn't  me  at  all,  that 
was  the  baron !  " 

"  The  baron !  —  hm, —  are  you  quite  sure  of  that  ?  " 
Herr  Tomatschek  became  suddenly  reflective. 

11 1  am,  of  course  I  am ;  I  heard  Fraulein  Badacs  as 
she — "  Here  Florian  stopped  suddenly,  the  thought 
occurring  to  him  that  he  should  be  careful  about  get- 
ting ladies  into  trouble.  With  a  view  to  changing  the 
subject  he  called  the  outraged  father's  attention  to  the 
fact  that  he  had  not  yet  breakfasted  and  felt  a  keen  ap- 
petite for  a  cup  of  coffee.  Herr  Tomatschek  nodded  in 
an  absent-minded  kind  of  way  and  sat  down  on  the 
nearest  chair,  where  he  buried  himself  in  thought,  while 
Florian  called  for  the  hot  water  and  made  preparations 
for  breakfast. 

Herr  Tomatschek  crossed  his  legs  and  leaned  his 
Apollo-like  chin  in  his  hands.  "  It  did  seem  to  me," 
he  remarked  musingly,  "  as  if  my  daughter  made  a  cer- 
tain impression  on  the  baron." 

"  I  should  think  so,  a  very  decided  one,"  rejoined 
Herr  Mayr  quietly. 

"  Hm !  And  you  can  swear  he  used  the  expression 
*  make  up  >  to  her  ?  " 

"  Heaven  forbid !  Where  did  you  get  that  story 
about  making  up  to  her,  anyhow  ? " 


110  Florian  Mayr 

"  My  daughter  told  me  last  night  as  we  were  going 
home  that  you  said  to  her  in  so  many  words :  '  just  do 
me  the  favor  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  one  real  man 
before  you  talk  such  nonsense  about  men  in  general. 
How  would  you  like  the  experience  of  being  led  astray 
by  a  jolly  good  fellow  ? '  Yes  indeed,  Herr  Mayr,  that's 
what  you  said  to  her !  And  when  my  daughter  naturally 
answered  in  the  negative,  you  replied  that  that  was 
greatly  to  be  regretted !  Do  you  hear  ?  Greatly  to  be 
regretted!  " 

^My  dear  Herr  Tomatschek,"  said  Florian,  "can 
you  remember  so  exactly  what  was  said  last  night  ?  I 
can't,  particularly  anything  that  happened  after  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning.  But  I'm  very  sure  I  didn't 
say  that,  and  if  I  did  I  didn't  mean  it.  And  then  it 
wouldn't  be  at  all  impossible  that  your  daughter  mixed 
me  up  with  the  baron.  We  don't  look  alike,  that's 
true,  but  Lord  bless  me,  after  so  many  bottles  — " 

"  You  don't  mean  to  assert  that  my  daughter  was  in- 
toxicated ! "  exclaimed  Herr  Tomatschek,  giving  his 
handsome  head  a  toss. 

"  Well,  if  not,  all  I've  got  to  say  is  that  I  have  a 
tremendous  respect  for  your  daughter's  head !  In  that 
case  she  can  stand  more  than  I  can,  for  I  was  most  cer- 
tainly tight,  there's  no  doubt  about  that  at  all.  Oh, 
my  poor  head !  " 

"  Hm,"  said  the  "  violin-king,"  and  buried  himself 
once  more  in  deep  thought. 

At  that  moment  the  niece  from  Pomerania  entered 
with  the  hot  water.  She  looked  extremely  discomposed 
and  her  eyes  were  red  and  swollen.  Evidently  she  had 
been  weeping.  With  trembling  hands  she  set  the  coffee- 
tray  on  the  table  in  front  of  Florian  and  started  to  beat 


Katzen  jammer  111 

a  hasty  retreat ;  but  Florian  caught  her  by  the  arm  and 
said,  "  For  Heaven's  sake,  how  you  look !  What's  the 
matter  out  there?  Have  you  had  a  scrap  with  your 
Aunty,  or  what?  You  might  say  good-morning  at 
least." 

The  girl  jerked  herself  away  sharply,  burst  into  tears 
and  sobbed  out,  "  Let  me  alone,  Herr  Mayr !  I'll 
never  speak  to  you  again !  You're  a  bad  man !  "  and 
she  rushed  out  banging  the  door  behind  her.  Quite 
unmoved,  Florian  stared  after  her  in  mild  surprise. 
With  a  deep  sigh  he  poured  the  hot  water  into  the  coffee- 
machine,  and  remarked  with  touching  resignation, 

"  That's  right !  Now  even  that  silly  goose  despises 
me.  Do  you  call  that  justice,  Herr  Tomatschek?  I 
assure  you  on  my  honor,  I  live  as  quietly  and  respect- 
ably as  an  assistant  revenue  clerk  on  a  pension.  To-day 
for  the  first  time  since  I  have  lived  in  Berlin  I  happen 
to  wake  up  two  hours  later  than  usual  with  a  beastly 
head  on  me,  and  what's  the  result?  They  come  run- 
ning in  one  after  the  other,  these  females,  with  their 
heads  swollen  up  like  Calcutta  hens,  for  no  other 
earthly  purpose  than  to  cast  their  contempt  in  my  very 
teeth!  I  claim  that's  not  justice  —  it's  an  outrage,  I 
claim!  And  as  if  that  were  not  enough,  you  appear 
too,  like  a  regular  Odoardo,  and  call  me  a  diabolical 
Don  Juan  and  demand  that  I  marry  your  daughter! 
I  tell  you,  Herr  Tomatschek,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned 
all  the  females  I  know  can  go  to  the  devil !  Yes,  my 
dear  Herr  Tomatschek  and  your  daughter  included !  -t- 
But  no  offence !  —  I  suppose  you've  already  had  break- 
fast ?  But  perhaps  I  may  offer  you  a  drink  —  I've  got 
some  fine  old  liqueur  here." 

The  lt  violin-king "  showed  no  further  resentment. 


112  Florian  Mayr 

On  the  contrary  he  accepted  the  liqueur  with  thanks, 
and  Florian  sat  down  with  him  and  ate  his  simple 
breakfast.  As  he  proceeded,  his  spirits  rose  somewhat. 
The  love  for  his  fellow  man  that  was  in  him  gradually 
awoke,  and  he  regarded  benevolently  the  handsome 
Toby,  careworn  and  dismal,  with  his  noble  head  rest- 
ing on  his  left  hand  staring  into  the  empty  cordial- 


"  Will  you  have  another  ? "  inquired  Florian  pleas- 
antly. 

Herr  Tomatschek  merely  nodded.  Even  after  dis- 
posing of  the  second  glass  he  still  preserved  silence. 
He  licked  his  lips,  carefully  wiped  his  black  mustache, 
took  a  tula  cigarette-case  from  his  pocket  and  lit  a 
cigarette.  Then  at  last  he  found  his  tongue. 

"  Would  you  advise  me  to  call  on  the  baron  ? "  he 
asked  with  gloomy  gravity. 

"  What  for  ?  "  said  Florian,  "  What  do  you  want  of 
him?  Don't  want  to  touch  him  for  a  loan,  do  you? 
I  don't  believe  he's  got  more  than  enough  for  himself." 

"  Touch  him  for  a  loan !  "  exclaimed  the  "  violin- 
king  "  indignantly.  "  I  was  not  thinking  of  that  — 
quite  yet.  I  mean  whether  you  think  it  correct  for 
me  to  challenge  him.  As  you  are  of  the  opinion  that 
he  insulted  my  daughter  last  night,  it  is  certainly  my 
duty,  as  a  man  and  a  father,  to  demand  satisfaction." 

"  Hm,  yes,"  observed  Florian,  wagging  his  head 
doubtfully.  "  It's  quite  possible  that  you  might  im- 
press the  baron  tremendously  in  that  way;  but  I  can't 
see  how  it  would  do  you  any  good,  for  I  don't  believe 
the  baron,  as  the  father  of  a  numerous  family,  would 
find  any  particular  pleasure  in  a  pistol  duel." 

"What!     The  baron  is  married?"   exclaimed  the 


Katzen  jammer  113 

handsome  Toby,  pulling  a  long  face.  "  Do  you  know 
that  for  certain  ?  " 

"  Fraulein  Badacs  told  me  about  it  last  night.  You 
see  he  made  a  foolish  marriage  when  he  was  young,  as 
most  artists  do  anyhow,  and  he  had  the  bad  luck  to  get 
hold  of  the  stupidest  and  most  abominable  woman  on 
earth.  He's  joined  eleven  clubs  already,  just  to  have 
an  excuse  for  going  out  every  night,  because  the  bar- 
oness makes  things  altogether  too  hot  for  him  at  home. 
I'm  sorry  for  the  man.  In  my  opinion  he  could  do 
quite  different  work  and  command  a  far  better  position 
if  he  hadn't  been  fool  enough  to  — " 

"  Oh,  what  do  I  care  about  the  baron  and  his  fam- 
ily affairs ! "  interrupted  Herr  Tomatschek  gruffly. 
He  rose  from  his  chair,  threw  off  his  havelock  and 
strode  several  times  up  and  down  the  room.  Then, 
stopping  in  front  of  Florian,  he  pointed  at  the  empty 
glass  and  said,  "  You  might  give  me  another  drop  of 
your  harmless  liqueur." 

Florian  hastened  to  fulfill  his  wish.  Herr  Tomat- 
schek emptied  the  glass  as  he  stood,  and  then  laid  his 
well  manicured  hand  heavily  on  the  shoulder  of  his 
young  friend.  He  drew  a  deep  sigh  and  said,  "  I  as- 
sure you,  Herr  Mayr,  it  is  an  exalting  thought  to  be  the 
father  of  a  genius !  " 

"  Indeed,  indeed !  Is  Fraulein  Libussa  a  genius  ?  " 
queried  Florian  without  any  particular  interest. 

t{  I  assure  you,  Herr  Mayr,  she  is  a  genius ! "  in- 
sisted the  "violin-king,"  giving  Florian's  shoulder  a 
vigorous  squeeze.  "  But  she  is  my  only  child,  and  her 
never-to-be-forgotten  mother  died  when  she  was  hardly 
ten  years  old.  From  that  time  the  child  has  had  to 
share  with  me  my  wandering  life.  Of  course,  she  could 


114  Florian  Mayr 

not  be  sent  to  school  any  longer.  I  became  ber  only 
teacher,  and  reading  had  to  do  the  rest.  She  developed 
with  extraordinary  rapidity,  both  in  body  and  mind. 
She  has  grown  to  be  a  beauty;  you  will  certainly  ac- 
knowledge that,  Herr  Mayr  3  " 

"Why  certainly,"  replied  Florian.  "She  looks 
like  you !  " 

"  To  be  sure,  that's  what  everybody  says,"  continued 
the  handsome  man,  running  his  fingers  through  his 
luxuriant  hair  with  a  self-satisfied  smile.  "  You  see, 
Herr  Mayr,  here  comes  the  question  that  I  wanted  to 
ask  you:  what  am  I  going  to  do  with  the  girl  now? 
What  is  to  become  of  the  daughter  of  the  poor  min- 
strel ?  I  assure  you  this  question  is  the  torture  of  my 
sleepless  nights.  Can  you  give  me  answer  to  it,  Herr 
Mayr?" 

Florian  thought  a  moment  and  then  said,  "  Well,  if 
your  daughter  is  such  a  genius,  what  can  she  do  ?  " 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"  Why,  I  should  think  she  must  have  an  inclination 
for  art  or  science  or  something  ?  Is  she  musical  ?  " 

"  Prodigiously !  But  she  has  learned  no  instru- 
ment." 

"  Well,  hasn't  she  any  voice  ?  " 

"  Oh,  a  sweet  voice,  an  enchanting  voice,  but  small, 
small,  very  small." 

"  Indeed !  So  there's  no  chance  in  that  direction. 
Hm,  hm  —  and  hasn't  she  shown  any  other  inclina- 
tions ? " 

"  Oh,  yes,  for  the  ballet.  But  that's  over  now ;  she 
has  risen  above  the  ballet.  She  has  a  phenomenal  talent 
for  acting,  but  she  despises  the  shallow  world  of  the 


Katzen  jammer  115 

"  So,  so.  Well,  how  would  it  do  to  make  an  author 
out  of  her  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Herr  Mayr,  I  assure  you  she  is  simply  born 
for  that !  "  cried  Herr  Tomatschek  with  enthusiasm. 
"  But  unfortunately  she  is  not  quite  sure  of  her  orthog-. 
raphy;  and  besides  she  is  altogether  too  fiery  and  too 
ambitious  to  stand  the  tedious,  tiresome  struggle  of 
authorship.  But  she  has  ideas  sometimes  —  simply 
marvelous !  " 

Here  Florian  lost  his  patience.  He  sprang  up  and 
cried  out,  "  Great  Heavens,  my  dear  Herr  Tomatschek, 
that's  all  very  well,  but  if  she  doesn't  know  anything, 
and  can't  do  anything,  or  won't,  where  in  the  world  does 
her  genius  come  in  ?  " 

"  Within,  my  dear  young  friend,"  replied  Toby  im- 
pressively. "  It  is  her  great  heart,  you  know ;  her 
whole  soul  is  full  of  the  loftiest  thoughts  and  the  most 
refined  sentiments.  The  creative  artist  whose  muse  she 
may  be  fated  to  become  is  surely  destined  to  conquer 
the  world, —  that's  a  dead  certainty  in  my  mind !  " 

Florian  was  nearly  in  despair. 

"  If  you're  so  sure  of  that,  Herr  Tomatschek,  why 
don't  you  wait  until  the  creative  artist  discovers  his 
muse  for  himself  ?  " 

"  Ah,  but  that  is  just  the  tragic  element  in  our  life. 
We  do  not  possess  the  means  of  waiting,"  cried  Herr 
Tomatschek  with  a  sigh  of  distress.  "  Oh,  my  God, 
my  God,  will  no  one  relieve  me  of  this  care  ?  My  dear 
young  friend,  you  can  surely  see  that  I  am  wearing  my- 
self out.  Do  you  not  know  of  somebody  who  for  a 
while  at  least  would  adopt  my  child  or  —  or  something 
like  that?" 

Florian  seized  his  head  in  both  hands.     "  Stop,  Herr 


116  Florian  Mayr 

Tomatschek,  do  stop,  for  the  Lord's  sake!  I  was  feel- 
ing quite  well,  and  now  you've  set  my  head  to  aching 
again.  How  can  I  help  you,  a  young  fellow  of  twenty- 
three  years,  and  a  poor  devil  at  that  ?  Go  and  ask  the 
baron;  perhaps  he  knows  more  about  such  things." 

The  "  violin-king  "  cast  a  look  of  majestic  scorn  upon 
Florian  Mayr,  shook  his  glossy  locks,  and  threw  his  long 
havelock  over  his  shoulders.  "  I  have  been  mistaken 
in  you,"  he  said,  arching  his  eyebrows,  "  You  have  no 
feeling  for  the  cares  of  a  father.  Pardon  my  intru- 
sion. Good  morning."  He  reached  for  his  hat  and 
strode  towards  the  door.  On  the  threshold  he  stopped, 
thought  for  a  moment,  and  turned  round  again.  "  I 
beg  your  pardon,  Herr  Mayr;  you  said  a  moment  ago 
that  the  baron's  marriage  was  a  very  unhappy  one. 
Do  you  think  it  possible  that  he  might  eventually  care 
to  get  a  divorce  ?  " 

"  Well,  why  not  ?    Ask  him  yourself." 

"Hm,  yes,  but  I  can't  go  and  ask  him  such  a  ques- 
tion in  the  bosom  of  his  family." 

"  Very  well  then,  my  dear  Herr  Tomatschek,  why 
won't  you  send  him  a  registered  letter  ?  "  cried  Florian 
completely  out  of  patience. 

The  "  violin-king "  perceived  the  irony.  He  drew 
himself  up,  clapped  his  plush  hat  upon  his  head,  and 
left  the  room  with  a  gesture  of  disdain. 

The  good  Florian  Mayr  had  of  very  truth  reason  to 
doubt  the  existence  of  the  moral  constitution  of  the 
world.  Good  heavens,  how  did  other  young  men  of  his 
age  behave,  and  especially  young  artists,  furnished- 
room  young  men,  without  family,  without  cares,  without 
duties?  What  happened  to  them  when  they  went  in 
for  a  good  time,  wasted  their  father's  money,  and  paid 


Katzen  jammer  117 

no  attention  whatever  to  any  of  the  Ten  Commandments, 
save  perhaps  the  fifth  and  the  seventh  ?  Nothing  hap- 
pened to  them.  On  the  contrary  the  wilder  they  were, 
the  more  reputation  and  honor  they  gained,  and  par- 
ticularly with  young  ladies. 

He,  on  the  other  hand,  had  hardly  ever  jumped  over 
the  traces,  had  always  been  a  pattern  of  industry  and 
dutifulness,  had  cost  his  parents  not  a  penny  for  years, 
and  proceeded  on  his  way  with  his  eyes  fixed  steadfastly 
on  the  ideals  of  his  art.  And  what  now  was  his  re- 
ward ?  A  single  night  passed  in  the  company  of  jolly 
and  interesting  companions  and  good  wine  had  brought 
upon  him  the  contempt  of  a  whole  lot  of  otherwise  well- 
disposed  people.  And  the  events  of  this  gray  morn- 
ing were  only  a  promising  prelude  to  an  edifying  con- 
cert of  nothing  but  misfortunes.  In  the  course  of  the 
next  few  weeks  no  less  than  four  families  dispensed 
with  his  services  as  piano-teacher  for  their  daughters. 
As  if  by  appointment  the  health  of  all  these  young 
ladies  suddenly  became  so  impaired  that  their  phy- 
sicians forbade  them  to  play  the  piano.  Only  one  of 
the  mothers  was  honest  to  declare  the  real  reason  for 
this  step,  namely,  that  Frau  Burmester  had  warned 
them  against  him  as  an  ill-bred,  and  more  than  that,  an 
unscrupulous  person  who  would  not  hesitate  to  misuse 
a  position  of  trust  to  deceive  inexperienced  young  girls. 
And  these  malicious  rumors  penetrated  even  to  the 
ears  of  the  director  of  the  conservatory.  It  was  of  no 
avail  that  Florian  explained  to  the  director  that  these 
slanders  were  entirely  the  work  of  the  revengeful  Prcze- 
walski.  The  director  was  afraid  that  if  Florian  re- 
mained he  would  lose  most  of  his  young  lady  pupils, 
and  besides  it  had  been  reported  to  him  that  Florian 


118  Florian  Mayr 

had  struck  up  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  his  deadly 
enemy,  Toby  Tomatschek,  who  had  once  attacked  his 
institution  savagely  in  a  newspaper  critique,  and  so 
Florian  was  released  from  his  position,  as  professor  of 
the  advanced  class,  on  the  first  of  January. 

It  was  a  very  lucky  thing  for  him  that  he  had  lived 
so  economically  in  his  years  of  plenty  and  had  thus 
laid  up  a  tidy  little  sum  of  money.  In  this  manner 
he  was  protected  from  the  gnawing  tooth  of  want  for 
a  considerable  time,  and  he  used  his  involuntary  leisure 
in  perfecting  his  piano  technique,  to  which  he  applied 
himself  with  redoubled  industry.  He  avoided  society, 
read  Schopenhauer,  despised  women,  and  persuaded 
himself  more  and  more  that  he  lived  in  the  very  worst 
of  worlds. 


CHAPTER  VII 
Thrown  Out 

As  time  went  on  Florian  began  to  feel  very  lonesome 
and  deserted,  especially  at  the  Christmas  season.  His 
income  was  now  so  reduced  that  he  had  given  up  his 
usual  trip  to  Bayreuth  and  Christmas  day  he  had  spent 
in  the  solitude  of  his  own  room.  Frau  Stoltenhagen 
looked  upon  this  strange  hermit  life  of  his  since  that 
day  of  "  gray  misery  "  as  a  sign  of  repentance  and  re- 
morse and  she  cherished  the  hope  that  after  his  recent 
untoward  experiences  with  ladies  of  the  upper  classes 
he  might  now  perhaps  in  the  loneliness  of  his  heart  be 
brought  to  look  with  kindlier  eyes  upon  her  niece  from 
Pomerania  who  stood  so  sorely  in  need  of  someone  to 
care  for  her.  Indeed  he  had  of  late,  oftener  than  here- 
tofore, entered  into  conversation  with  his  landlady  and 
her  niece  just  for  the  sake  of  having  a  chance  to  speak 
himself  and  to  hear  the  answering  sound  of  a  human 
voice ;  but  his  relations  with  these  ladies  had  not  on  that 
account  become  in  any  respect  more  cordial, —  on  the 
contrary, —  the  jokes  and  allusions  which  he  permitted 
himself  and  which  in  the  past  had  always  been  accom- 
panied by  a  friendly  smile  were  now  not  infrequently 
uttered  in  a  harsh  and  spiteful  tone. 

In  fact  it  was  only  with  a  few  of  his  musical  ac- 
quaintances that  he  now  associated  at  all,  although  this 
kind  of  companionship  was  the  least  agreeable  to  him, 
for  they  talked  nothing  but  shop,  and  maliciously  slan- 
119 


120  Florian  Mayr 

dered  the  achievements  and  character  of  their  fellow 
strugglers.  He  had  not  even  thought  of  looking  up 
the  new  acquaintances  he  had  made  on  that  Gais  even- 
ing. So  frankly  and  unreservedly  natural  as  he  usually 
was  in  the  company  of  men  of  all  sorts,  he  had  never 
yet  been  quite  able  to  conquer  a  certain  native  shyness 
which  always  prevented  him  in  the  case  of  new  ac- 
quaintanceships from  taking  the  first  step.  Very  often 
this  had  been  attributed  to  pride  but  it  was  really  the 
dread  of  appearing  obtrusive.  Baron  von  Hied,  for 
instance,  was  a  man  quite  to  his  taste  with  whom  he 
would  have  been  very  glad  to  form  a  closer  intimacy 
but  he  never  could  get  to  the  point  of  looking  him  up  or 
even  of  proposing  a  meeting  with  him  at  some  restaurant 
through  the  medium  of  a  simple  post-card.  Fraulein 
Ilonka,  too,  he  would  have  been  glad  to  see  again.  It 
was  really  awfully  stupid  of  him  to  feel  any  constraint 
with  her,  especially  as  she  had  definitely  expressed  the 
wish  to  become  better  acquainted  with  him  from  the 
artistic  side  as  well.  Besides  she  had,  in  fact,  an- 
nounced that  she  should  call  on  him.  If  she  really  did 
care  so  much  about  it,  she  might  have  kept  her  promise ; 
but  of  course  she  had  not  given  him  another  thought ;  — 
after  all  that  promise  was  only  one  of  those  amiable 
phrases  which  flow  so  smoothly  from  the  lips  of  the  care- 
less and  light-hearted. 

What  then  was  Florian  Mayr's  astonishment  when 
one  sunny  morning,  a  few  days  before  the  New  Year, 
the  smart  young  Hungarian,  charmingly  gowned,  saucy 
and  gay,  walked  into  his  room  and  at  once  began  to 
chat  with  him  in  the  most  unconcerned  manner,  as  if 
they  were  the  oldest  of  friends  and  had  only  yesterday 
arranged  for  this  meeting.  He  was  inexpressibly  grate- 


Thrown  Out  121 

ful  to  her  for  her  kindness.  His  heart  expanded  under 
the  influence  of  her  droll  chatter  and  he  found  his  own 
humor  again;  with  ironical  self -mockery  he  told  her 
of  all  the  misfortunes  which  had  befallen  him  since 
that  jolly  evening  when  first  they  met.  And  then  at 
her  request  he  played  for  her  a  number  of  show  pieces 
which  she  had  on  her  own  concert  repertoire. 

When  he  had  finished  she  seized  him  by  both  arms, 
gave  him  a  good  shaking,  and  cried  out  with  a  laugh: 
"  Why,  what  in  the  world  would  you  have !  You  are 
a  master!  Are  you  not  ashamed  yourself,  you  stupid 
man  ?  What  for  you  want  to  give  piano  lessons  and 
be  schoolmaster  for  fine  young  ladies  when  you  could 
be  very  famous  artist!  I  am  little  famous  myself  and 
I  play  like  little  pig  compared  to  you, —  yes,  yes,  that 
was  all  right,  what  you  said.  Oh,  but  my  good  Lord  in 
heaven,  what  frightfully  stupid  men  are  in  this  world !  " 
Thereupon  she  raised  herself  on  tiptoe  and  gave  him 
a  quick  kiss  on  the  left  cheek  and  a  gentle  slap  on  the 
right. 

"  Thank  you  heartily  for  both,"  said  Florian  de- 
lighted, for  her  approbation  really  did  him  good.  "  But 
you  see  I  have  no  talent  for  this  getting-famous  busi- 
ness. It  takes  money  to  give  concerts  and  I  haven't 
any, —  I  haven't  even  enough  friends  to  fill  three  rows 
of  seats  with  free  tickets !  And  who  else  would  think 
of  going  to  a  concert  by  a  fellow  with  the  name  of 
Mayr  ?  Oho !  In  these  days,  why,  good  gracious,  every 
idiot  can  play  the  piano!  I'm  not  even  a  favorite 
pupil  of  Liszt!  So  what's  to  be  done?  It's  simply 
out  of  the  question  for  me  to  get  to  the  front." 

"Eh  bien!  My  dear  friend,"  rejoined  the  Hun- 
garian, drawing  his  hand  through  her  arm  and  patting 


122  Florian  Mayr 

it  affectionately,  "  then  I  have  to  push  you  to  front ;  all 
you  got  to  do  is  to  be  good  and  keep  quiet,  you  stupid 
man.  Tiens,  mon  ami,  j'ai  une  idee  —  voyons:  to-mor- 
row evening  is  gramde  soiree  at  the  Countess  Tocken- 
burg's.  Do  you  know  the  Countess  Fifi  Tockenburg  ?  " 

"No,  I  haven't  the  honor  but  I've  heard  of  her; 
she's  the  enthusiastic  Wagnerite,  isn't  she  ? " 

"  Exactly.  Oh,  dear  friend,  you  must  get  acquainted 
with  Countess  Fifi !  You  will  like  it  there  very  much. 
All  musical  world  of  Berlin  goes  there,  court,  biggest 
aristocrats,  all  famous  artists, —  very  good  music, — 
only  modern  music.  Oh,  I  assure  you,  it's  only  swell 
house  in  all  Berlin  where  one  can  enjoy  oneself.  Vous 
connaissez  done  le  palais  Tockenburg  Unter  den  Lin- 
den? Well,  then  at  nine  o'clock  to-morrow  evening, 
et  en  grande  tenue,  habit  noir,  cela  va  sans  dire." 

"  But  my  dear  young  lady,  I  haven't  been  invited. 
How  shall  I  manage  to  get  in  ?  I  don't  suppose  that 
anybody  that  comes  along  can  walk  right  in  just  be- 
cause he  has  long  hair  and  plays  the  piano  a  little." 

"  Oh,  you  can  put  your  mind  at  rest,  dear  friend,  I 
do  it  all !  I  write  to  Countess  Fifi  to-day  a  little  billet 
doux.  I  write  only  that  you  are  great  artist,  Liszt 
player  par  excellence, —  absolutely  sure  to  get  invita- 
tion for  you.  So  that's  settled,  isn't  it  2  You  call  for 
me  at  half  past  eight,  Hotel  de  St.  Petersbourg.  What 
you  want  to  play  ?  I  write  it  to  Countess." 

"  Well,  let  us  say:     '  The  Legend  of  St.  Francis.'  " 

"All  right.  So  good-by,  dear  Herr  Mayr  —  et  a 
demawi." 

With  the  liveliest  expressions  of  gratitude  he  accom- 
panied the  amiable  young  lady  to  the  stairs.  Frau 
Stoltenhagen  waylaid  him  in  the  hall  and  could  not 


Thrown  Out  123 

refrain  from  asking  who  the  handsome  lady  was  with 
the  costly  furs.  And  Florian  gave  vent  to  his  excellent 
spirits  by  telling  her  that  this  lady  was  a  Roumanian 
princess  who  had  engaged  him  to  make  a  tour  around 
the  world  with  her  accompanied  only  by  a  concert  grand, 
so  that  they  might  play  duets  on  the  way,  and  by  a 
mameluke  as  her  body  servant  and  a  Moorish  boy  to 
wait  upon  him. 

The  next  evening  punctually  at  half  past  eight  Flor- 
ian Mayr  presented  himself  at  the  Hotel  St.  Peters- 
bourg.  Fraulein  Badacs  had  not  completed  her  toilette 
but  quite  without  ceremony  she  let  him  come  in  and 
look  on  while  her  skilful  hair-dresser  put  the  finishing 
touches  to  her  artistic  coiffure.  Then  she  threw  off 
the  dressing  mantle  and  put  on  her  unusually  low  cut 
bodice.  The  good  Florian  was  struck  dumb  with 
amazement  at  not  being  put  out  even  during  this  pro- 
ceeding; apparently  she  had  no  objection  to  letting  him 
share  with  the  maid  who  was  lacing  her  waist  at  the 
back  the  silent  pleasure  of  gazing  upon  whatever  ob- 
jects of  interest  there  were  to  see.  The  innocent  Flor- 
ian assumed  that  this  was  the  national  custom  of  Hun- 
gary and  he  could  not  help  thinking  that  it  was  a  very 
nice  one.  In  conclusion  he  was  permitted  to  help  her 
on  with  her  rich  fur  cloak  and  lead  her  down  the  stairs 
on  his  arm.  The  Tockenburg  palace  was,  it  is  true, 
only  a  few  minutes'  walk  from  the  hotel;  nevertheless 
they  took  a  carriage. 

It  was  the  first  time  in  his  life  that  Florian  had  en- 
tered so  aristocratic  a  mansion  and  it  was  the  first  time 
that  he  had  ever  conducted  so  artistocratic  a  lady  up  a 
thickly  carpeted  marble  staircase.  He  knew  prac- 
tically nothing  of  Fraulein  Badacs  but,  judging  by  her 


124  Florian  Mayr 

clothing  and  her  confident  bearing,  he  felt  that  she  must 
be  something  extraordinarily  aristocratic  and  he  es- 
teemed it  a  great  honor  to  have  been  chosen  as  her 
cavalier  for  this  evening.  He  had  quite  forgotten  to 
ask  if  she  had  really  received  an  invitation  for  him, 
but  then  she  must  have,  otherwise  she  would  not  have 
brought  him  there. 

Florian  was  dazzled  by  the  light  of  hundreds  of  can- 
dles and  by  the  magnificence  of  the  white  and  gold 
salon  which  was  still  further  illuminated  by  numerous 
crystal  chandeliers  and  made  even  more  resplendent  by 
the  brilliant  gay-colored  company  which  filled  not  only 
this  salon  but  several  of  the  adjoining  apartments  as 
well.  This  multitude  of  splendid  uniforms,  these  or- 
ders, these  rich  toilettes,  these  old  ladies  in  rustling 
silk  with  incredibly  low-neck  gowns,  this  confusion  of 
many  languages  among  which  French  predominated, 
these  imposing  lackeys  who  moved  with  such  amazing 
skill  from  group  to  group  over  the  mirror-like  surface 
of  the  parquetry  floor,  balancing  the  well-filled  tea- 
trays, —  all  this  was  so  distractingly  new  to  Florian 
Mayr  that  at  first  he  felt  downright  unhappy  and  out 
of  place,  especially  as  he  could  not  long  fail  to  notice 
that  he  was  apparently  the  only  one  who  had  ventured 
into  the  salon  with  blackened  boots  and  a  stiff  silk  hat. 
All  the  other  gentlemen  in  civilian  garb  had  opera  hats 
tucked  under  their  arms  and  wore  patent  leather  shoes. 
Had  it  not  been  for  Fraulein  Badacs,  Master  Florian 
would  not  soon  have  trusted  himself  to  leave  the  door- 
way, but  this  lady  seemed  to  be  quite  at  home  here. 
She  simply  took  him  by  the  sleeve  and,  looking  around 
meanwhile  to  right  and  left,  steered  him  securely 
through  the  densest  swarm  of  guests  straight  to  the  host- 


Thrown  Out  125 

ess  who  was  standing  on  the  threshold  of  an  adjoining 
room  engaged  in  animated  conversation  with  a  young 
gentleman  in  the  uniform  of  the  hussars,  who  surely 
must  be  a  prince,  for  he  wore  the  grand  cross  upon  his 
breast. 

Fraulein  Ilonka  made  an  elaborately  low  bow  before 
the  countess  and  waited  until  she  was  spoken  to.  The 
Countess  Tockenburg  was  still  a  youthful  woman,  a  del- 
icate blonde,  with  a  fine  rather  small  figure  and  a  fresh 
complexion.  She  half  closed  her  eyes,  with  a  quick 
movement  raised  her  long-handled  lorgnon,  and  her 
upper  lip  curled  over  her  dazzling  white  teeth  in  a 
thoroughly  cordial  smile. 

"Ah,  Hens,  tiens  —  c'est —  mais  oui,  je  me  rapelle: 
c'est  la  jolie  pianiste  hongroise ! "  Then,  turning  to 
the  young  hussar,  she  exclaimed :  "  Permettez-moi, 
mon  prince,  de  vous  presenter  Mademoiselle  de  — 
de— " 

"  Badacs  Ilonka,  s'il  vous  plait,  votre  Aliesse," 
broke  in  the  Hungarian  quickly,  for  she  saw  that  the 
countess  was  trying  in  vain  to  recall  her  name. 

The  prince  entered  at  once  into  conversation  in 
French  with  Fraulein  Ilonka  and  Florian  found  him- 
self reduced  to  making  various  little  bows  behind  her 
back  in  the  direction  of  the  nearsighted  lady  of  the 
house.  It  was  some  time  before  the  countess,  who  was 
listening  absent-mindedly  to  what  was  being  said  around 
her,  finally  noticed  him.  Suddenly  she  looked  at  him 
through  her  lorgnon  and  showed  her  faultless  teeth; 
for  the  present,  however,  she  said  nothing  but  "  Ah !  " 

Florian  bowed  again  and  muttered  something  about 
the  honor  which  he  felt  had  been  conferred  upon  him 
by  her  invitation. 


126  Florian  Mayr 

It  was  clear  that  the  countess  could  not  remember  for 
she  said  somewhat  uncertainly :  "  Oh,  it  is  very  kind 
of  you  to  have  come. —  You  are  traveling  through  Ber- 
lin, are  you  not?  You  come  from, —  pardon  me, — 
whence  do  you  come  ?  " 

"  From  Bayreuth,  Countess,  but  I  have  already  lived 
in  Berlin  three  years." 

"  Oh,  Bayreuth !  "  replied  the  countess,  casting  an 
enthusiastic  look  upwards.  Then  she  raised  her  lorgnon 
again  and  gazed  hopelessly  at  the  tall,  slim  youth. 

"  My  name  is  Mayr,"  said  Florian,  modestly  trying 
to  help  her. 

Thereupon,  as  if  alarmed  at  this  revelation,  the 
countess  closed  her  lips  and  gently  touched  Fraulein 
Badacs  on  the  arm  with  her  lorgnon. 

The  latter  turned  and  hastened  to  help  her  friend 
out  of  his  predicament  by  introducing  him  to  the  count- 
ess as  the  magnificent  young  virtuoso  whom  she  had 
recommended  for  her  musicale  this  evening.  She  pro- 
tested furthermore  that  le  jeune  maitre  was  one  of 
the  most  distinguished  Liszt  players  of  the  present  day. 

The  face  of  the  countess  brightened  again,  and  again 
she  vouchsafed  Florian  a  glimpse  of  her  white  teeth. 
"  Ah,  you  come  from  Liszt  ?  "  she  cried  in  a  tone  which 
at  the  same  time  clearly  meant :  "  Ah,  young  man, 
that  is  quite  a  different  thing." 

Florian  put  his  head  on  one  side,  shrugged  his  shoul- 
ders, and  replied :  "  I  am  very  sorry,  Countess,  I  have 
not  yet  been  with  Liszt  but  I  intend  to  try  my  luck  with 
him  soon." 

Her  upper  lip  closed  down  again,  the  lorgnon 
dropped,  and  the  countess  blinked  as  she  exclaimed: 
"  Oh,  you  have  not  yet  been  with  Liszt  ?  Yes, —  pardon 


Thrown  Out  127 

me, —  that  is,  you  have  brought  recommendations  of  the 
Master  himself  from  Bayreuth  ?  I  think  you  said  you 
came  from  Bayreuth  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do,  Countess,"  replied  Florian ;  "  in  fact,  I 
was  born  in  Bayreuth.  My  father  is  teacher  and  or- 
ganist there," 

"  But,  with  your  permission,  Countess,"  said  Frau- 
lien  Ilonka,  coming  to  his  assistance,  "He  plays  su- 
perbly! Played  for  me;  I  was  carried  away!  You 
will  be  convinced,  Countess,  when  he  plays  the  '  St. 
Francis.'  " 

"Ahem  —  to-night  that  will  scarcely  —  hm  —  the 
programme  is  all  arranged.  Pardon  me,  my  dear,  I 
see  over  there — " 

The  rest  of  the  sentence  remained  unintelligible. 
With  a  strangely  pinched  and  drawn  expression  the 
countess  looked  out  between  the  Hungarian  and  her 
protege  around  the  salon  and  in  a  moment  had  disap- 
peared from  sight 

Fraulein  Ilonka  was  scarcely  less  put  out  than  Flor- 
ian  himself,  but  she  would  not  show  it.  She  looked  at 
him  with  a  friendly  laugh,  took  him  by  the  arm,  and 
introduced  him  to  the  young  prince.  But  what  in  the 
world  was  he  to  do  with  Florian  Mayr  of  Bayreuth  ? 
After  establishing  the  proposition  that  piano  playing 
must  indeed  be  very  difficult  since  most  people  attempted 
it  and  so  few  ever  attained  perfection,  he  found  himself 
for  the  time  being  unable  to  lavish  any  more  intellect 
upon  Florian  Mayr,  so  he  turned  once  more  with  ani- 
mation to  the  Hungarian  girl  with  whom  his  points  of 
contact  were  obviously  closer.  Without  impropriety 
Florian  could  not  venture  to  disturb  them  longer  and, 
after  listening  for  a  few  minutes  with  a  stupid  smile 


128  Florian  Mayr 

on  his  face,  he  stepped  quietly  to  one  side  and  effaced 
himself. 

It  seemed  to  him  that  he  had  practically  been  turned 
out,  for  it  was  quite  clear  that  the  terribly  aristocratic 
lady  of  the  house  had  been  by  no  means  agreeably  sur- 
prised by  his  presence  there.  She  did  not  seem  to 
have  paid  any  attention  to  Fraulein  Badacs's  letter  and, 
indeed,  appeared  to  know  that  young  lady  only  very 
superficially.  Under  such  circumstances  it  really  did 
require  a  quite  unusual  effrontery  to  bring  along  with- 
out more  ado  a  man  who  was  still  more  of  a  stranger 
than  herself.  Florian  had  no  intention  of  thanking 
this  audacious  young  person  for  so  singular  a  manifes- 
tation of  friendship.  On  the  contrary,  he  was  en- 
raged at  her  and  made  up  his  mind  to  depart  unnoticed 
before  his  strength  of  character  should  be  subjected  to 
too  hard  a  test  by  a  well-provided  buffet.  The  musical 
delights  he  found  it  easier  to  renounce. 

He  had  almost  reached  the  door  when  in  the  midst 
of  a  small  group  of  old  ladies  he  caught  sight  of  his 
friend  Prczewalski  and  among  the  ladies  was  one  whose 
grown-up  daughter  had,  until  recently,  been  one  of  his 
pupils.  There  —  now  the  handsome  Antonine  has  dis- 
covered him  also.  All  the  ladies  glanced  towards  him 
and  then  put  their  heads  together  and  whispered  and 
listened  eagerly  to  something,  obviously  very  interest- 
ing, which  the  composer  had  to  tell  them. 

"  That's  the  way,  you  scoundrel,  now  you're  ripping 
me  up  the  back !  "  growled  Florian  half  aloud.  This 
determined  him  to  stay  a  while  longer  lest  it  should 
appear  that  he  had  run  away  on  account  of  that  black- 
guard. 

A  few  minutes  later  a  lackey  mounted  the  low  plat- 


Thrown  Out  129 

form  in  the  middle  of  the  long  side-wall  of  the  large 
salon  and  raised  the  lid  of  the  piano.  That  was  the 
signal  for  the  music  to  begin.  The  whole  of  the  large 
assemblage  flocked  round  the  platform;  the  ladies  and 
elderly  gentlemen  took  seats  on  the  rows  of  chairs  that 
had  been  placed  there;  the  younger  gentlemen  stood  at 
the  sides  and  back.  A  young  pianist  whom  Florian 
did  not  know  performed  a  fantasie  from  the  Meister- 
singer,  apparently  an  improvisation,  and  then  the  royal 
chamber-singer  Betz,  an  old  gentleman  with  a  very  bald 
head  and  gold  spectacles  over  his  extremely  nearsighted 
eyes,  stepped  upon  the  platform,  opened  the  ponderous 
piano-score  on  the  music-stand  and  sang  the  monologue 
of  Hans  Sachs,  "  Wahn,  Wahn,  iiberall  Wahn." 

Dramatic  music  rendered  in  evening  clothes  and  a 
white  cravat  had  never  inspired  Florian  with  much  en- 
thusiasm. He,  therefore,  turned  his  attention  more  to 
the  company  than  to  the  performance.  He  had  suc- 
ceeded at  the  beginning  of  the  concert  in  securing  a  place 
to  stand  pretty  well  forward  so  that  he  had  a  good  view 
of  those  present.  He  slowly  let  his  glance  sweep  along 
the  rows  of  chairs.  Among  the  guests  he  discovered 
the  wellknown  characteristic  heads  of  some  distin- 
guished diplomats,  ministers,  professors,  and  artists, 
besides  a  number  of  faces  that  seemed  familiar  although 
he  was  unable  to  give  them  names.  There  were  the 
typical  Prussian  assessors  and  lieutenants  among  the 
younger  men  and  the  masks  of  court  officials  and  bureau- 
crats among  the  older.  Among  the  ladies  he  saw  a  good 
deal  of  flesh  but  little  beauty.  With  the  exception,  how- 
ever, of  the  old  lady  whom  he  had  just  seen  in  the  com- 
pany of  his  Polish  friend,  he  saw  no  one  he  knew.  But 
stop.  Here,  on  this  side,  only  a  few  rows  from  the  place 


130  Florian  Mayr 

where  he  was  standing,  was  that  not  the  fat  little  Consul 
Burmester?  Yes,  verily!  And  at  his  side  the  lady 
in  lemon-colored  silk  with  the  bouquet  of  poppies  at 
the  shoulder,  that  must  be  his  spouse.  He  would  not 
have  known  her,  had  she  not  been  seated  next  to  the 
consul.  How  could  a  man  who  heretofore  had  always 
seen  the  lady  only  when  "  not  yet  dressed,"  that  is,  in 
morning  gowns  which  completely  enveloped  her  in  their 
ample  folds,  recognize  this  dangerous  yellow-covered 
structure  of  bones  as  the  same  person  ?  But  where  was 
Thekla  ?  Perhaps  she  had  taken  a  corner  seat  where 
he  could  not  see  her  behind  the  rows  of  standing  gen- 
tlemen. He  drew  back  gradually  with  great  caution. 
He  hoped  the  consul's  wife  had  not  seen  him  and  so  he 
tried  to  get  around  behind  her.  He  succeeded  and  there, 
just  as  he  had  thought,  in  the  corner  seat  beside  her 
little  papa  sat  Thekla  Burmester,  clad  in  a  simple  white 
muslin  gown  with  a  red  sash  about  her  waist.  The 
costume  seemed  a  bit  too  childlike,  but  it  became  her 
charmingly;  the  dark  blond  hair  hung  from  her  curly 
head  in  two  full  braids  which  even  on  this  occasion  and 
in  spite  of  the  grand  toilette  she  still  wore  down  her 
back  like  a  schoolgirl.  Her  mother  doubtless  intended 
that  she  should  look  as  young  as  possible.  She  cer- 
tainly had  made  a  mistake  in  her  choice  of  a  child  to 
adopt,  for  that  this  young  girl  with  the  beautiful  arms, 
the  fair  neck,  and  the  tender  fullness  of  the  bosom  could 
scarcely  be  the  child  of  such  a  mother  must  strike 
everyone  who  saw  them  side  by  side.  Nor  was  there 
in  Thekla's  countenance  the  slightest  trace  of  the  con- 
sul either.  Without  doubt  she  was  one  of  the  prettiest, 
if  not  the  prettiest,  girls  in  the  room.  Florian's  heart 


Thrown  Out  131 

beat  faster.  He  was  proud  of  his  Thekla.  Now  he 
had  to  stay.  He  must  find  an  opportunity  to  lure  her 
away  from  her  parents  in  order  at  once  to  set  her  good 
stupid  little  head  to  rights  again  in  case  that  confounded 
Marie  had  caused  any  confusion  there  by  her  chatter. 
Florian  no  longer  knew  on  what  terms  he  stood  with 
Thekla  for  of  course  he  had  not  been  able  to  write  to 
her  again. 

Thekla  troubled  herself  about  the  music  as  little  as 
he  did.  She  seemed  this  evening  to  be  making  her 
first  excursion  also  into  the  great  world  for  her  eyes 
wandered  hither  and  thither  with  the  same  eagerness 
of  the  novice  that  he  had  displayed.  Florian  refrained 
from  any  attempt  to  attract  her  attention  for  fear  her 
parents  might  catch  sight  of  him  too,  but  he  remained 
standing  close  behind  her  so  that  she  should  not  escape 
him  in  the  general  break-up.  Never  had  music  bored 
him  so  much  as  it  did  to-night  notwithstanding  that 
everything  done  possessed  genuine  artistic  merit.  The 
programme  indicated  the  taste  of  the  audience  to  which 
it  was  presented:  Wagner,  Liszt,  Tschaikowski,  Cha- 
brier,  rendered  by  excellent  artists,  and  at  intervals 
some  amateurs  of  the  high  aristocracy  condescended  to 
render  a  few  songs  in  the  lighter  taste  of  the  French 
salon  and  even  productions  of  their  own,  which  stood  in 
very  noticeable  contrast  to  the  lofty  style  of  the  other 
compositions.  It  was  precisely  these  lighter  productions, 
however,  that  received  the  stormiest  applause.  At  the 
close  of  the  first  part  of  the  entertainment,  a  Silesian 
count  with  a  voice  that  really  was  magnificent  sang 
some  songs  which  another  Silesian  count  had  composed. 
The  applause  was  so  great  that  he  found  himself  obliged 


132  Florian  Mayr 

to  respond  with  an  encore.  He  chose  Schumann's  "  Ich 
grolle  nicht "  with  the  high  C  and  then  in  the  sibilant 
manner  of  the  Silesians 

"  Isch  grolle  nischt 
Und  wenn  das  Herz  auch  brischt" 

sang  the  handsome  highborn  gentleman.  And,  grow- 
ing ever  bolder,  he  struggled  on ;  his  face  became  redder 
and  redder ;  and  —  now  —  hurrah !  up  with  a  bold 
swing: 

"  Isch  sah  die  Schlang*, 
Die  dir  am  Hawarzen  fri-wisst, 
Isch  sah,  mein  Lieb,  wie  sahr  du  ahh-lend  bischt  — 
Isch  grolle  nischt." 

Frenzied  applause!  The  company  forgot  com- 
pletely that  they  were  there  gathered  together  under 
the  banner  of  the  music  of  the  future  and  hence  had  no 
right  to  wax  especially  enthusiastic  over  such  exhibitions 
of  strength, —  and  in  an  assemblage,  too,  in  which 
every  vociferous  expression  of  enthusiasm  was  held  to 
be  rather  bad  form.  But  what  is  to  be  done  ?  A  high 
C  works  upon  the  nerves  like  any  other  monstrosity. 
All  sprang  electrified  from  their  seats  and  the  count's 
more  intimate  acquaintances  swarmed  up  to  the  plat- 
form to  congratulate  him  upon  his  phenomenal  achieve- 
ment To  be  sure,  these  very  same  "  intimates  "  had 
often  heard  him  sing  "  Isch  grolle  nischt "  with  the 
high  C  before,  but  it  nevertheless  continued  to  be  a 
cause  for  wonder  that  once  again  nothing  had  burst, — 
a  thing  of  that  sort  deserved  recognition.  Antonine 
Prczewalski,  who  had  played  the  count's  accompani- 


Thrown  Out  133 

ment,  was  fairly  crowded  off  the  platform  by  the  irre- 
sistible rush  of  the  congratulators. 

Florian  took  advantage  of  the  general  confusion, 
while  the  consul  and  his  wife  were  deeply  engrossed 
in  conversation  with  some  people  in  front  of  them,  to 
tug  very  gently  at  one  of  Fraulein  Thekla's  long  braids. 
She  turned  quickly  and  gave  a  soft  little  squeak  of 
fright. 

"  Come  quickly.  I  must  speak  to  you,"  whispered 
Florian  hurriedly;  then  he  disappeared  behind  a  knot 
of  gentlemen  in  order  that  the  Burmesters  might  not 
catch  sight  of  him  in  passing. 

The  whole  company  now  betook  itself  into  the  ad- 
joining supper  room,  led  by  his  excellency,  Count  Tock- 
enburg,  who  had  the  aged  Princess  Hatzfeld  on  his 
arm,  and  there  on  two  long  tables  were  displayed  all 
kinds  of  delicious  tidbits.  Florian  followed  close  be- 
hind the  Burmesters  in  the  slowly  moving  stream  of 
guests  until  they  reached  the  entrance  of  the  supper 
room.  There  he  ventured  once  more  to  touch  Thekla 
on  the  arm  and  as  she  turned  he  deftly  caught  her  hand 
and  held  it  tight.  Fortune  favored  him.  The  parents 
went  on  without  noticing  that  Thekla  remained  behind. 
He  drew  her  aside  out  of  the  stream  of  human  beings  to 
a  place  behind  one  of  the  columns  which  flanked  the 
doorway. 

"  Let  me  go,  Herr  Mayr,  please,"  whispered  Thekla 
in  alarm.  "  I'm  not  allowed  to  speak  to  you." 

"  Mamma  has  forbidden  it,  I  suppose,"  replied  Flor- 
ian with  an  ironical  smile.  "  Well,  that's  all  the  same 
to  me.  I  must  speak  to  you.  I  must  know  what  that 
stupid  girl,  Marie,  told  you  about  me  and  whether  you 
believed  it.  Tell  me,  Fraulein  Thekla,  you  didn't  be- 


134  Florian  Mayr 

lieve  it,  did  you?  I  was  so  miserable  that  morning 
and  I  couldn't  get  my  thoughts  together.  If  it  hadn't 
been  for  that,  honestly  I'd  have  written  you  a  little 
something  to  comfort  you  but  that  fool  girl  rushed  off  in 
a  regular  rage  just  because  she  had  made  me  mad  with 
her  silly  chatter  and  I  called  her  a  monkey.  You 
know,  Fraulein  Thekla,  don't  you,  from  your  own  ex- 
perience, how  easy  it  is  for  me  to  lay  about  me  with 
'  geese '  and  '  monkeys  '  when  I'm  annoyed  ?  But  that 
doesn't  prove  that  I'm  really  a  bad  man,  now  does  it  2  " 

Thekla's  drawn  and  anxious  face  brightened  per- 
ceptibly. She  raised  her  eyes  to  his  quite  trustingly 
and  said :  "  Oh,  Herr  Mayr,  you're  not  really  a  bad 
man  then  after  all,  are  you  ?  I  was  sure  of  it." 

"  There  that's  right,  that's  sensible,"  cried  Florian 
delighted.  "  Now,  let's  make  up  and  be  friends  again." 
And  as  he  spoke  he  put  out  his  right  hand  appealingly. 

Thekla  did  not  dare  to  take  the  proffered  hand  be- 
cause all  the  people  could  see  them,  so  Florian  proposed 
that  they  should  take  refuge  in  the  room  at  the  other 
side  of  the  salon;  he  would  get  something  to  eat  for 
both  of  them,  then  they  could  be  comfortable,  and  she 
must  tell  him  in  minute  detail  everything  that  had 
happened  to  her  since  their  last  meeting.  Without 
waiting  for  an  answer,  he  left  her  standing  there,  went 
into  the  supper  room,  and  pushed  his  way  through  to  the 
buffet  to  procure  for  himself  and  his  protege  two 
plates  of  lobster  salad  and  a  heap  of  small  square-cut 
sandwiches. 

In  his  zeal  he  had  failed  to  notice  that  he  had  come 
close  up  to  Consul  Burmester  who  was  engaged  at  the 
same  buffet  in  securing  a  plate  for  his  wife,  who  stood 
close  behind  him  to  guide  him  in  the  choice  of  viands. 


Thrown  Out  135 

The  two  gentlemen  recognized  each  other  just  as  they 
were  both  about  to  help  themselves  from  the  same  plat- 
ter; their  spoons  collided  and  they  mutually  begged 
pardon. 

"  Ah,  Herr  Mayr,  you  here !  " 

"  Yes,  how  do  you  do,  Herr  Consul  ?  Help  your- 
self, please." 

"  I  beg  of  you,  after  you,"  stammered  the  little  man 
in  embarrassment.  Then  he  turned  to  his  wife  and 
called  her  attention  to  Herr  Mayr's  presence  there. 

Scarcely  had  Frau  Olga  set  eyes  on  the  arch-enemy, 
when  she  cried  out  in  a  comically  frightened  tone,  so 
loud,  too,  that  in  spite  of  the  prevailing  confusion  of 
voices  those  standing  nearest  could  not  help  hearing: 
"Where  is  Thekla?  I  beg  of  you,  Willy,  where  is 
Thekla?" 

Florian  noticed  many  smiling  faces  and  a  roguish 
impulse  made  him  turn  to  the  consul  with  the  most 
amiably  innocent  manner  in  the  world,  saying:  "Ah, 
so  you  have  brought  your  daughter  with  you  ?  Wait  a 
moment,  I'll  go  look  for  her."  And  before  the  consul 
and  his  spouse  could  reply  he  had  glided  swiftly  away 
through  the  crowd,  bearing  his  forage  with  him.  Close 
by  the  folding  doors  stood  a  lackey  holding  a  salver 
filled  with  beer  glasses.  He  secured  one  of  these  in 
passing  and,  the  two  plates  in  his  left  hand,  the  beer 
glass  in  the  right,  he  skated  over  the  smooth  floor  of 
the  music  salon  to  the  drawing-room  opposite. 

But  he  was  not  to  reach  his  destination  quite  without 
interruption.  Fraulein  Badacs  was  at  that  moment 
slowly  approaching  the  supper  room  accompanied  by 
the  princely  lieutenant  of  hussars  and  she  called  out  to 
Florian :  "  Tiens,  dear  friend,  are  you  looking  for 


136  Florian  Mayr 

me  ?  Have  you  brought  me  something  nice  to  eat  ?  " 
So  saying,  she  seized  one  of  the  leberwurst  sandwiches 
which  instantly  disappeared  in  her  large  mouth. 

With  a  quick  movement  Florian  put  the  plate  out  of 
her  reach  and  said :  "  Hands  off !  Fraulein,  that's 
not  for  you." 

"Ah!  What  does  Serene  Highness  think?"  said 
Fraulein  Ilonka,  turning  to  her  companion.  "  A  fine 
cavalier,  this  Herr  Mayr!  Moi,  je  I'  ai  introduit  id 
—  et  par  consequence  il  fait  la  cour  a  une  autre  !  Que 
c'est  drole,  n'est-ce  pas?  " 

"  Don't  let  that  put  you  out,  my  dear  madam,"  said 
the  prince  in  the  harsh  nasal  tone  of  the  Prussian 
guardsman.  "  I  shall  try  to  afford  you  some  slight 
compensation  for  your  painful  loss." 

Florian  purposely  disregarded  the  irony  and  with  a 
good-natured  laugh  replied:  "You  are  very  kind, 
your  Highness, —  no  offense,  my  dear  Fraulein,  but 
I've  just  met  an  old  friend  here,  such  a  poor  little  puss, 
and  I  really  must  look  after  her  first."  And  he  slid 
away  without  permitting  any  further  detention. 

And  there  she  Avas.  Little  Thekla  had  been  obedient 
and  was  awaiting  him  with  anxiously  beating  heart  in 
the  countess's  drawing-room.  Here  they  were  quite  un- 
disturbed for  it  was  very  far  from  the  intention  of  the 
hostess  that  refreshments  should  be  consumed  in  this 
room.  Indeed,  for  this  purpose  small  tables  had  been 
placed  in  a  gallery  adjoining  the  supper  room. 
Florian  deposited  his  spoils  upon  one  of  the  little  stands 
of  Japanese  lacquer,  shoved  it  up  in  front  of  a  luxurious 
causeuse,  and  made  Thekla  sit  down  beside  him.  The 
poor  child  nibbled  a  little  at  the  sandwiches  but  Florian 
had  to  eat  both  portions  of  lobster  salad  all  by  himself. 


Thrown  Out  137 

She  sipped  a  little  of  the  beer,  too,  just  to  please  him ; 
the  remainder  he  drank  to  her  health  in  a  single  swal- 
low. And  while  he  was  feasting  with  excellent  appetite 
upon  lobster,  the  girl  told  him  the  whole  story  of  her 
domestic  troubles  during  the  past  few  weeks.  Her 
mamma  actually  favored  the  Polish  musician's  suit, 
especially  since  he  claimed  to  belong  to  the  oldest  Polish 
nobility,  of  which  claim,  however,  he  had  thus  far  fur- 
nished not  the  slightest  proof.  But  fortunately  her 
father  could  not  abide  the  man  so  that  she  felt  to  some 
extent  protected  against  his  importunities.  Still  it  was 
quite  unpleasant  enough  that  this  wishy-washy  person 
was  allowed  to  come  to  the  house  so  often.  In  spite 
of  her  protests  she  had  been  obliged  to  take  piano  les- 
sons of  him  but  these  did  not  take  place  regularly  so 
now  she  was  to  begin  on  the  violin  to  which  she  still  less 
inclined.  Her  papa  no  longer  had  the  energy  to  op- 
pose her  mamma's  wishes;  the  long  strife  had  cowed 
him.  She  now  felt  herself  completely  deserted,  espe- 
cially since  her  maid's  refusal  to  perform  messenger's 
service  for  her  had  cut  off  all  opportunity  of  seeking 
comfort  and  advice  from  her  friend.  Nevertheless, 
although  she  was  strictly  watched,  she  had  several  times 
succeeded  in  making  inquiry  for  letters  poste  restante. 
But  she  had  never  received  a  single  line  from  him,  she 
had  almost  begun  to  believe  the  calumnies  of  Prczewal- 
ski  and  Marie.  "  Oh,  dear  Herr  Mayr,  you  must  tell 
me  what  I  ought  to  do,"  concluded  the  poor  child,  fold- 
ing her  hands  in  her  lap  with  an  air  of  droll  helpless- 


Florian  was  deeply  touched ;  but  he  was  still  chewing 
away  on  his  lobster  salad  so  that  what  he  now  said  in 
reply  did  not  exactly  indicate  sentiment  or  emotion: 


138  Florian  Mayr 

"  Hm,  hm, —  now  what  can  we  do  in  a  case  like  that  ? 
Why,  bless  my  soul,  haven't  you  got  a  nice  lieutenant 
or  something  of  that  sort  around  that  you'd  like  to 
run  away  with  ?  " 

"  Shame  on  you,  Herr  Mayr,  how  can  you  say  such 
a  thing !  Besides  you  yourself  were  going  to  — " 

Florian  looked  at  her  in  astonishment.  He  put  down 
his  knife  and  fork,  swallowed  the  last  mouthful,  and 
then,  taking  her  right  hand  tenderly  between  both  of 
his,  he  asked  softly :  "  Fraulein  Thekla,  do  you  really 
like  me  well  enough  to  run  away  with  me?  With  a 
rough  fellow  like  me,  a  common  piano  player  who  has 
nothing  and  is  nothing  ?  " 

She  made  no  answer  but  blushing  deeply  bowed  her 
pretty  little  head. 

Florian  stroked  her  warm  soft  hand  for  a  while  and 
then  with  a  deep  sigh  said  while  the  tears  stood  in 
his  eyes :  "No,  no,  my  dear,  just  see  here ;  now  I  like 
you  much  too  well  to  wish  to  lead  you  into  any  such 
folly.  When  you  need  a  bow-wow  to  bite  and  drive 
away  people  you  don't  like,  you'll  always  find  me  ready 
but  —  you  must  not  think  of  me  in  any  other  way. 
Now  about  that  Boobylauski,  you  needn't  bother  your 
head  about  him.  Here  is  a  piece  of  paper,  put  that 
away  very  carefully, —  and  if  the  fellow  don't  let  up 
on  his  fool  idea  of  marrying  you,  all  you've  got  to  do 
is  just  to  hand  this  autograph  to  your  papa  with  my 
compliments."  He  took  out  his  pocketbook,  removed 
a  piece  of  paper  several  times  folded,  and  handed  it 
with  impressive  mien  to  the  astonished  and  disillusioned 
girl. 

Thekla  folded  the  paper  still  smaller  and  was  en- 
gaged in  concealing  it  in  her  bosom  when  there  ap- 


Thrown  Out  139 

peared  at  the  opening  of  the  folding  doors  a  little  group 
of  excited  people;  Herr  and  Frau  Consul  Bunnester, 
Antonine  Prczewalski;  the  three  elderly  ladies  who 
seemed  to  have  especially  attached  themselves  to  him 
this  evening,  and  finally  the  lady  of  the  house  herself, 
holding  the  lorgnon  at  her  eyes  and  craning  her  beauti- 
ful neck.  Frau  Olga  Bunnester  plunged  across  the 
room  to  the  pair  while  the  others  remained  standing 
near  the  door. 

"  Ah !  "  cried  the  enraged  mother  quite  out  of  breath : 
"  So,  it  is  really  true!  Thekla,  Thekla,  how  is  it  pos- 
sible! You  withdrew  from  the  company  —  with  — 
with  this  gentleman, —  Oh !  "  And  she  stretched  forth 
her  hand  imperiously  towards  her  daughter  who  had 
risen  trembling.  She  did  not  honor  Florian  Mayr 
with  a  single  glance. 

The  consul  on  the  other  hand  felt  that  his  dignity 
demanded  that  he  should  address  an  earnest  word  to  the 
seducer.  With  head  erect  and  his  prosperous  abdomen 
well  thrown  out,  he  walked  over  to  Florian  and  said: 
"  May  I  ask  for  an  explanation,  sir !  What  was  your 
purpose  in  luring  my  daughter  hither  ?  " 

The  signs  of  indignation  manifested  by  the  assembled 
company  did  not  disconcert  Florian  Mayr  in  the  least ; 
on  the  contrary,  the  situation  struck  him  as  eminently 
comical.  Going  up  to  the  little  Herr  Bunnester,  he  re- 
plied with  an  amiable  smile :  "  Now  don't  you  excite 
yourself,  Herr  Consul.  You're  not  so  bad  by  a  long 
shot  as  your  wife  looks,  ha,  ha,  ha!  But  there's  one 
thing  you  can  depend  upon  when  I  tell  you :  your  daugh- 
ter is  nowhere  so  safe  as  under  my  protection.  And 
now,  finally  and  principally,  I  owed  it  to  myself  to 
clear  my  character  in  this  young  lady's  estimation  of 


140  Florian  Mayr 

certain  contemptible  calumnies  which  that  handsome 
gentleman  over  there  has  put  into  circulation  about 
me."  He  indicated  with  his  outstretched  forefinger 
the  Polish  composer,  Prczewalski,  who  from  behind  the 
protecting  wall  of  the  three  elderly  ladies  was  watching 
the  painful  scene  with  a  look  of  mocking  triumph. 

All  stood  speechless;  only  the  insulted  musician  ut- 
tered a  half  suppressed  malediction  as  he  cautiously 
shoved  his  doubled-up  fist  out  between  the  two  oldest 
of  his  elderly  friends. 

At  this  juncture  the  Countess  Tockenburg  advanced 
towards  Florian  and,  closing  her  eyes  almost  completely, 
said  in  a  tone  of  the  utmost  disdain :  "  I  have  had 
supper  served  in  the  supper  room,  Herr  Mayr.  My 
private  salon  is  not  intended  for  that  purpose." 

Now  Florian  really  was  embarrassed.  Bowing  awk- 
wardly, he  stammered :  "  I  beg  a  thousand  pardons, 
Countess,  I  —  don't  exactly  know  how  I  ought  to  be- 
have here.  When  one  comes  into  an  aristocratic  house 
for  the  first  time  in  his  life  — " 

"  I  cannot  remember  ever  having  invited  you,  Herr 
Mayr,"  interrupted  the  countess  with  icy  calmness. 

There  was  a  general  "  Ah !  "  of  astonishment  and  in- 
dignation. The  handsome  Antonine  laughed  mockingly 
and  even  ventured  forth  from  behind  his  protectresses. 
"  That's  the  crowning  insult !  "  murmured  Frau  Bur- 
mester  and  Thekla  snuggled  up  to  her  father,  looking 
greatly  troubled. 

Florian  turned  a  deep  red.  His  throat  seemed  to 
contract  and  it  was  only  with  an  effort  that  he  was 
able  to  utter  a  few  broken  words :  "  Countess,  I  am 
—  it  must  be  a  mistake  —  Fraulein  Badacs  told  me 
she  would  certainly  get  an  invitation  for  me  —  I  was 


Thrown  Out  141 

to  play  the  '  St.  Francis  ' —  perhaps  the  Countess  will 
permit  me  to  play  the  '  St.  Francis  '  now  ?  " 

The  countess  raised  her  lorgnon  to  her  eyes  and  with 
a  look  that  was  fairly  annihilating  fixed  her  gaze  upon 
Florian's  at  all  events  well-blacked  shoes,  as  she  re- 
plied :  "  To  obtain  a  hearing  at  my  soirees  one  must 
have  more  influential  recommendations, —  Fraulein 
Badacs  has  been  somewhat  too  hasty." 

"  Excuse  me,  Countess,  I  couldn't  know  that,"  re- 
joined Florian  in  a  voice  that  trembled  slightly. 
"Under  these  circumstances  I  of  course  —  no  longer 
—  wish  to  intrude.  I  have  the  honor,  Countess."  He 
bowed  and  slowly  moved  towards  the  door. 

The  little  group  closed  up,  whispering  together,  and 
followed  almost  at  his  heels.  Florian  had  sharp  ears. 
He  heard  quite  distinctly  Prczewalski  saying  to  his 
three  ladies :  "  Really  that  is  a  monstrous  piece  of 
shamelessness  for  this  Badacs  to  introduce  her  lover 
sans  foQon  into  so  aristocratic  a  circle!  " 

Florian  wheeled  about  on  his  heel  and  with  a  few 
long  strides  stood  close  in  front  of  the  frightened  An- 
tonine  who  struggled  to  retreat,  but  Florian  seized  him 
with  a  firm  grip  by  both  lapels  of  his  coat  and  shook 
him  gently  back  and  forth.  "  What  did  you  say,  you 
contemptible  rascal  ?  "  he  hissed  softly.  "  For  the  low- 
down  lies  you've  told  about  me,  you'll  get  your  drub- 
bing all  right ;  and  now  you'll  insult  a  respectable  lady 
into  the  bargain,  will  you,  you  infamous  cur,  you  ?  " 

The  company  was  returning  from  the  supper-room. 
A  scene  so  unheard  of  could  not  of  course  pass  un- 
noticed. Several  young  men  rushed  up  to  prevent  vio- 
lence and  endeavored  to  detach  the  victim  from  Flor- 
ian who  had  now  lost  his  head.  Many  ladies  too,  among 


142  Florian  Mayr 

them  Ilonka  Badacs,  flocked  in  from  curiosity  to  observe 
the  exciting  incident  from  a  little  distance. 

The  Countess  Tockenburg  was  indignant.  Never  be- 
fore had  such  a  thing  happened  in  her  salons.  She 
turned  to  a  young  officer  who  came  up  most  opportunely 
and  requested  him  to  see  to  it  that  "  this  gentleman  " 
found  his  way  out  of  her  house  at  once. 

The  young  lieutenant  of  the  guards  seized  Florian 
under  the  arm  and  whispered :  "  Come,  my  dear  sir, 
we  can  settle  this  matter  outside." 

"  Ha,  what  ?  Oh,  yes,  I  understand.  I'm  coming," 
replied  Florian,  as  he  let  go  of  the  trembling  Antonine 
with  a  final  little  shove,  and  obediently  followed  the 
young  officer.  But  after  taking  a  few  steps  he  turned 
again  and  shouted  over  the  heads  of  the  whole  com- 
pany :  "  Oh,  Fraulein  Burmester,  please  be  so  kind 
and  give  that  paper  which  you  know  about  to  your 
father  now!  The  Herr  Consul  will  perhaps  be  so  good 
as  to  read  it  aloud  to  the  company."  He  had  the  satis- 
faction of  seeing  the  obedient  Thekla  hasten  to  do  his 
bidding.  Then  he  yielded  to  the  energetic  pressure  of 
the  guardsman  and  moved  towards  the  door. 

There  Fraulein  Ilonka  overtook  him,  and  in  a  state 
of  great  excitement  inquired  what  had  happened. 

"  Nothing  much,"  answered  Florian  calmly.  "  I  told 
that  scoundrel,  Prczewalski  a  bit  of  the  truth  because  he 
said  you  were  my  mistress  and  had  had  the  face  to 
bring  me  here  with  you.  The  countess  has  just  had  me 
thrown  out." 

"Hey!  What  is  that?  Teremtete!"  cried  Frau- 
lein Badacs,  her  eyes  flashing  with  anger.  "  Wait,  my 
dear  friend,  I  go  along  with  you, —  that  is,  I  follow  you 
right  away  as  soon  as  I  have  played  rhapsodie.  Wait 


Thrown  Out  143 

for  me  in  restaurant  Krczywaneck."    And  off  she  went. 

Consul  Burmester  took  the  paper  from  Thekla's  hand, 
unfolded  it  with  much  curiosity,  and  as  he  read  it 
through  he  shook  his  head  in  amazement.  His  wife 
was  of  course  in  the  highest  degree  eager  to  learn  its 
contents  but  the  consul  could  not  be  induced  to  give  her 
the  paper.  It  was  not  until  they  were  at  home  and 
Thekla  had  been  sent  to  bed  that  he  announced  to  his 
wife  his  firm  resolution  that  in  the  future  his  house  was 
to  be  closed  to  Herr  Antonine  Prczewalski.  Herr 
Mayr  was  only  a  rude,  hot-headed  fellow  but  this  noble 
Pole  he  considered  a  contemptible  person  and  moreover 
a  dangerous  character. 

At  Krczywaneck's  Pierian  Mayr  sat  until  midnight, 
nursing  his  just  wrath,  alone  with  his  Pilsener  beer. 
Fraulein  Ilonka  did  not  come.  She  had,  indeed,  ac- 
cording to  promise,  left  the  soiree  of  the  Countess  Fifi 
as  soon  as  she  had  played  her  rhapsodie, —  but  not  alone, 
for  his  serene  highness,  the  young  prince,  accompanied 
her  and  he  naturally  preferred  the  accommodations  at 
Herr  Dressel's  to  those  at  Herr  Krczywaneck's. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
The  Examination 

As  was  his  yearly  custom,  the  great  master,  Franz 
Liszt,  arrived  in  his  summer  residence,  Weimar,  at  the 
beginning  of  May,  and  the  polyglot  twitter  of  the  motley 
flock  of  birds  of  passage  that  flew  about  with  him  be- 
tween Home  and  Weimar,  with  an  occasional  trip  to 
Budapest,  descended  this  year  with  the  usual  hub- 
bub upon  the  fair  city  of  the  Muses.  That  celebrated 
newspaper,  Deutschland,  which  owed  its  prosperous  ex- 
istence to  the  "  fat  salt-bone "  advertisements  of  the 
Weimar  eating-houses,  published,  as  usual  on  the  eve 
of  Liszt's  arrival,  a  glowing  poem  signed  with  the  in- 
itials, "  A.  W.  G.,"  which  the  local  wits  interpreted  as 
"  altes  Weimersches  Garluder "  (old  Weimar  chat- 
terer), but  which  everybody  knew  were  those  of  that 
worthy  gentleman,  the  town  organist.  The  next  morn- 
ing as  the  sun  rose  smiling  according  to  programme  the 
streets  of  the  residence  showed  the  characteristic  change 
which  the  Liszt  season  was  wont  to  bring  with  it.  Pu- 
pils, male  and  female,  strolled  about  looking  for  rooms 
or  showing  the  newcomers  the  sights  of  the  town.  Maid- 
ens with  languishing  eyes,  from  the  Swedish  white 
blonde  to  the  darkest  Semitic  brunette,  displayed  their 
gigantic  hats  and  extraordinary  toilettes.  Pale  youths, 
nearly  all  of  them  beardless,  with  uncannily  long  bony 
fingers,  and  filled  with  the  desire  to  look  as  much 
like  the  Master  as  possible,  gave  slovenly  escort  to  the 

144 


The  Examination  145 

ladies  and  excited  the  wonder  of  the  Philistines  by  their 
numerous  little  eccentricities  of  dress,  and  especially 
their  ostentatious  behavior.  Nearly  all  wore  gold 
bosom-pins  in  the  form  of  medallions  bearing  the  bust 
of  Liszt.  One  of  them,  who  revealed  himself  as  a  Ber- 
lin Jew  the  moment  he  opened  his  mouth,  wore  a  fez 
with  an  abnormally  long  tassel,  and  pretended  to  be  a 
Turk.  Another  sweated  about  in  a  fabulously  long, 
close-fitting  overcoat  in  order,  if  possible,  to  be  taken  for 
an  abbe.  A  third  had  brought  back  from  Italy  a 
light-colored  flannel  suit  with  enormous  checks,  set  off 
with  a  sash  of  red  silk,  which  threw  the  town  lasses  of 
Weimar  into  no  little  excitement.  Every  two  of  these 
demi-gods  dragged  as  a  rule  one  nymph  about  with  them 
by  the  arm.  They  called  their  comrades  to  the  window 
by  whistling  musical  motifs,  mostly  from  Wagner,  and 
carried  on  long  conversations  with  them,  even  from  the 
other  side  of  the  street  if  that  happened  to  be  more 
convenient.  And  at  noon  it  was  very  lively  indeed  in 
the  pianistic  gardens  of  the  restaurants  where  the  many 
round  tables  were  spread.  Everybody  laughed,  chat- 
tered, sang,  and  screamed  together  in  a  wild  turmoil 
of  languages,  in  which,  however,  German,  French,  and 
Eussian  appeared  to  be  the  most  prominent.  It  was 
just  as  when  the  swallows  come  back  with  their  ear- 
splitting  uproar  and  take  possession  of  the  old  nests 
or  set  to  work  to  build  new  ones. 

In  the  garden  of  the  Hotel  Chemnitius  a  particularly 
large,  vociferous,  and  motley  crowd  of  Lisztites  of  both 
sexes  had  gathered  together  at  table  to  celebrate  the 
opening  of  the  summer  season  with  a  May-bowl;  and 
the  jollity  of  this  symposium  had  become  almost  un- 
controlled when  a  young  man,  tall  and  thin  of  figure, 


146  Florian  Mayr 

with  a  narrow,  tanned  face  and  deep-set,  round  little 
eyes,  his  long  locks  crowned  with  a  very  high  silk 
hat,  entered  the  garden  and  sat  down  at  a  table  some 
little  distance  from  the  hilarious  guests  at  the  round 
table,  and  unnoticed  by  them.  If  anyone  ever  did,  this 
newcomer  certainly  looked  like  a  Lisztite.  But  in  pass- 
ing the  table  where  the  revelers  sat  he  nevertheless 
made  an  intentionally  wide  detour,  merely  glancing  at 
them  morosely  out  of  the  corners  of  his  eyes  for  all  the 
world  like  a  psalm-singing  hypocrite.  But  even  at  the 
distance  at  which  he  sat  it  was  quite  impossible  not  to 
notice  the  sinfully  mirthful  company,  and  he  kept 
his  ears  open  in  order  to  hear  something  of  their  jests 
and  gossip.  He  had  already  begun  to  eat  his  thin  soup 
when  he  suddenly  started  up  in  his  chair  as  though  he 
had  received  an  electric  shock.  He  let  his  spoon  fall 
into  the  soup  so  that  it  splashed  all  over  the  tablecloth 
and  onto  his  shirt-front  without  his  even  noticing  it. 
He  stared  over  toward  the  other  table  and  growled  to 
himself  in  a  low  voice,  "  Himmelherrgottsakrament! 
Has  the  devil  brought  you  here,  too  ?  " 

It  was  a  woman's  voice  that  had  startled  the  tall 
youth  in  this  manner,  and  this  voice  belonged  without 
any  doubt  whatever  to  Fraulein  Ilonka  Badacs.  Right 
enough,  there  she  was  in  the  midst  of  the  carousing  crew. 
She  sat  with  her  back  toward  him,  on  which  account  he 
had  not  recognized  her  before.  At  her  side  sat  the  cox- 
comb in  the  Italian  flannels  with  his  right  arm  leaned 
across  her  shoulders.  He  was  evidently  whispering 
rather  racy  things  into  her  ear,  for  she  screamed  out 
from  time  to  time,  gave  the  flannels  a  dig  in  the  ribs 
and  called  out  something  to  the  company  in  her  broad 


The  Examination  147 

Hungarian  German,  which  was  received  with  roars  of 
laughter. 

The  lonely  guest  who  gave  expression  so  positively  to 
his  displeasure  at  the  behavior  of  Fraulein  Badacs,  as  he 
scrubbed  the  grease-spots  on  his  shirt-front  furiously 
with  his  napkin,  muttering  unadulterated  Bavarian 
aphorisms  as  he  did  so,  was  of  course  no  other  than 
Florian  Mayr.  He  had  not  got  on  very  well  with  the 
Hungarian  girl  since  the  unpleasant  episode  at  the 
soiree  of  the  Countess  Tockenburg,  and  the  fact  that 
she  had  not  kept  her  word  on  that  occasion,  but,  as  she 
frankly  confessed,  had  preferred  to  take  supper  with  the 
princely  lieutenant  of  hussars, —  that  he  found  harder 
to  forgive  than  the  social  disgrace  to  which  her  brazen 
introduction  had  subjected  him.  And  as  she  found 
no  especial  pleasure  in  being  dressed  down  like  any 
school  girl  by  a  youthful  comrade,  the  result  was  that 
they  parted  in  burning  wrath.  But  that  did  not  mean 
that  he  had  forgotten  her.  Quite  the  contrary!  And 
when  he  had  calmed  down  a  bit  he  had  called  himself 
an  arch-boor  and  a  miserable  countrified  brute.  What 
could  he  know,  the  son  of  a  Bayreuth  organist,  who 
had  struggled  along  for  twenty  years  in  narrow  and 
meager  circumstances,  toiling  for  his  daily  bread, — 
what  could  he  know  of  the  laws  and  customs  of  society  ? 
But  Fraulein  Ilonka  Badacs  was  at  home  in  that 
world  and  whatever  she  chose  to  do  must  surely  be 
right  and  proper.  For  in  his  opinion  Ilonka  Badacs  was 
a  lady  of  the  great  world,  and  she  was  the  first  of  this 
description  to  make  an  impression  of  any  depth  upon 
him,  because  she  united  the  nai've  cordiality  of  the  boon 
companion  with  the  address  and  ease  of  manner,  the 


148  Plorian  Mayr 

wide  knowledge  of  languages,  and  that  urbane  and  well 
groomed  condition  of  body  and  mind  which  go  to  make 
up  the  real  lady.  And  then  again  it  was  to  her  that 
he  owed  the  courage  to  go  to  Weimar  at  his  own  risk 
without  any  recommendations  whatever.  The  hope  of 
meeting  her  again  here  was  not  the  least  important  of 
the  influences  which  had  induced  him  to  come.  He 
would  never  confess  to  himself  that  he  was  in  the  slight- 
est degree  in  love  with  her,  but  after  all  she  was  the  only 
woman  of  whom  he  had  ever  thought  with  longing, 
about  whose  picture  his  thoughts  grouped  themselves  in 
sweetly  childlike  dreams.  And  now  here  she  was  with 
this  intoxicated  company  of  slovenly  loafers  and  slat- 
terns, as  he  called  them  in  his  wrath.  He  choked  down 
his  meal  without  enjoyment  and  made  up  his  mind  to 
go  away  without  speaking  to  Fraulein  Badacs. 

He  paid  his  bill,  clapped  his  silk  hat  upon  his  head 
with  a  bang,  and  stalked  by  the  revelers  with  averted 
head.  As  he  passed  he  heard  whispering  and  giggling 
behind  him  and  before  he  had  got  half  way  to  the  gar- 
den gate,  Ilonka's  voice  cried  loudly  after  him: 
"  Bless  my  soul,  'it's  Florian  Mayr !  Hold  him,  chil- 
dren! He  is  very  celebrated  artist,  very  dear  friend 
of  me!" 

It  was  in  vain  that  Pierian  quickened  his  pace  and 
acted  as  if  he  had  heard  nothing ;  for  Ilonka  ran  after 
him,  caught  him  by  his  coat-tails  and  held  him  fast. 
"  Allj  baratom!  "  she  cried  with  a  laugh.  "  That  won't 
do,  my  dear  boy.  One  runs  not  away  where  sit  lots  of 
celebrated  colleagues !  " 

Florian  turned  round,  took  off  his  hat,  and  made  a 
quick  and  rather  awkward  bow,  which  threw  his  long 
hair  across  his  face ;  then  he  fixed  his  little  brown  eyes 


The  Examination  149 

upon  her  laughing  countenance  and  whispered  with  de- 
cision, "  Thank  you,  I  won't  sit  down  with  that  gang ! 
It  may  be  fun  for  you,  Fraulein  —  it  certainly  isn't  my 
taste!" 

Ilonka  caught  him  tightly  by  both  arms,  shook  him 
and  cried,  "  Insolent  fellow,  horrid !  What  a  stupidity 
again !  "  And  she  drew  him  to  the  nearest  unoccupied 
table,  pushed  him  down  upon  a  chair,  and  seated  her- 
self opposite  him.  Planting  her  elbows  on  the  table 
so  that  the  wide  sleeves  of  her  thin  dress  showed  her 
full,  white  fore-arms,  she  leaned  her  good-natured, 
mirthful  face,  which  was  still  altogether  too  much  pow- 
dered, upon  her  hands  and  made  a  ridiculous  grimace. 

"  Well,  is  Herr  Florian  still  very  angry  about  little, 
small  prince  ?  I  swear  that  I  do  not  love  him,  not  so 
much !  "  And  she  blew  across  the  palm  of  her  out- 
stretched hand. 

Florian  had  to  smile  in  spite  of  himself;  she  looked 
really  too  droll.  He  replied  in  a  very  much  milder 
tone  of  voice,  "  I'll  tell  you  what ;  I  don't  care  much 
about  the  prince,  but  that  crowd  there  —  Are  they  all 
really  pupils  of  Liszt  ?  May  the  Lord  forbid !  " 

"  Oh,  dear  friend,"  said  Ilonka  soothingly,  "  What 
difference  makes  it  ?  They  are  all  very  nice  people ; 
little  stupid,  little  crazy,  little  in  love  —  all  no  money, 
and  always  happy!  I  go  not  usually  with  them.  I 
live  Hotel  Erbprinz,  eat  table  d'hote  with  the  finest 
company,  creme  de  la  creme!  But  to-day  is  the  first 
time  in  Weimar  and  the  good  colleagues  invited  me.  I 
cannot  be  boorish  fellow !  " 

"  I  see,  yes,"  murmured  Florian  in  embarrassment, 
writh  a  not  altogether  intelligent  expression  in  his  face. 
"  Of  course,  I  have  no  right  to  dictate  to  you,  and  there 


150  Florian  Mayr 

can  be  no  question  of  being  angry  of  course ;  for  anyhow, 
I  am  —  of  course  — "  but  he  did  not  know  how  to  pro- 
ceed. 

She  laughed  and  stretched  her  right  hand  over  the 
table  almost  under  his  very  nose,  calling  out  playfully, 
"  Then  apologize,  kiss  pretty  little  hand  —  be  very 
good!" 

He  bent  over  her  hand  and  touched  it  lightly  with 
his  lips  pursed-up  comically  without  taking  it  in  his, 
blushing  at  the  same  time  like  a  bashful  boy.  The 
reconciliation  was  thus  outwardly  sealed,  but  neverthe- 
less he  obstinately  refused  to  sit  down  with  the  merry- 
makers, because  before  he  knew  whether  the  Master 
would  accept  him  as  a  pupil  or  not  he  was  not  in  a 
frame  of  mind  to  make  new  acquaintances.  He  was 
as  excited  as  a  school  boy  before  an  examination  at 
the  thought  that  perhaps  to-day  he  would  stand  be- 
fore the  venerated  Master  and  be  asked  to  play  some- 
thing for  him. 

Fraulein  Ilonka  proposed  that  she  should  introduce 
him  to  Liszt,  but  at  this  he  nearly  became  rude  again 
and  he  reminded  her  of  the  evil  results  of  her  introduc- 
tion to  the  Countess  Tockenburg.  At  that  she  let  the 
obstinate  fellow  go. 

Florian  returned  to  his  hotel,  took  a  short  nap,  and 
then  brushed  his  black  suit  carefully,  ironed  his  silk  hat 
and  put  on  a  clean  collar,  in  order  to  appear  worthily  be- 
fore his  idol. 

He  inquired  his  way  to  the  Hofgartnerei  in  the 
Marienstrasse,  and,  having  found  it,  wandered  slowly 
up  and  down  at  least  a  half  a  dozen  times  in  front  of 
the  plain  yellow  building,  gazing  up  at  the  windows  of 
the  first  story  like  a  love-sick  swain.  He  could  not  mus- 


The  Examination  151 

ter  up  courage  to  go  in  and  simply  inquire  whether 
the  Master  was  at  home  or  not ;  and  so  he  stood  there, 
faint-hearted  and  hesitating,  and  whenever  people  came 
by  he  took  another  turn  up  and  down  in  order  not  to 
appear  like  a  suspicious  character.  At  last  a  girl  ap- 
peared at  the  door,  who  had  the  appearance  of  a  serv- 
ant, and  he  plucked  up  courage  to  ask  her  quite  bash- 
fully whether  "  the  Herr  Abbe  Dr.  Franz  von  Liszt " 
were  at  home. 

The  cheerful,  pleasant-faced  girl  smiled  at  this  cere- 
monious bundle  of  titles  and  informed  him  that  the 
Master  was,  indeed,  at  home  but  could  not  be  seen  at 
the  moment;  he  would  probably  come  out  very  soon  to 
look  after  his  rose-bushes  in  the  garden. 

"  Oh,  Fraulein,  I  suppose  you  belong  to  the  house, 
don't  you  ? "  asked  Herr  Mayr,  his  courage  rising  a 
bit. 

"  Why  yes,  of  course,"  replied  the  girl  merrily : 
"  Why,  I  am  Pauline." 

Florian  had  no  idea  of  the  significance  of  Pauline, 
but  his  face  suddenly  brightened,  as  if  some  genius  had 
appeared  to  roll  away  for  him  the  bowlder  that  blocked 
the  entrance  to  the  magic  cave;  and  he  inquired  with  a 
tone  of  joyful  anticipation  in  his  voice,  "  Haha,  Frau- 
lein Pauline,  now  I'm  right  glad  to  hear  that!  Can 
you  tell  me  how  I  shall  go  to  work  to  get  a  look  at  the 
Master,  even  if  it's  from  a  distance  ? " 

His  modest  veneration  touched  Pauline's  heart  and 
she  conducted  him  through  the  house  into  the  garden 
and  advised  him  to  walk  up  and  down  there  until  the 
Herr  Doctor  came  out.  And  so  he  found  himself  alone 
in  the  somewhat  restricted  premises  of  the  Hofgartnerei. 
The  sun  shone  very  fervently  for  this  season  of  the  year 


152  Morian  Mayr 

in  this  unshaded  flower-garden,  and  Florian  perspired 
horribly  in  his  long  closely  fitting  coat,  but  really  more 
from  excitement  and  nervousness  than  on  account  of  the 
heat.  He  wandered  about  in  the  narrow  paths  between 
the  flower-beds,  mopped  his  face  and  gazed  into  his  silk 
hat  with  the  air  of  a  pious  worshipper  murmuring  a 
prayer  before  entering  a  church.  Hundreds  of  times 
he  had  taken  counsel  with  himself  as  to  what  he  should 
say  when  he  should  really  pluck  up  courage  to  speak  to 
the  Master,  but  now,  when  the  great  moment  was  at 
hand,  he  found  the  idea  almost  too  audacious.  Even 
his  lurking  here  alone  in  the  garden,  lying  in  wait  for 
the  venerated  Master,  appeared  to  him  a  piece  of  pre- 
sumption, and  he  felt  very  much  like  getting  as  near  as 
possible  to  the  gate  on  the  other  side  in  order  to  make 
his  escape  in  case  Liszt  should  happen  to  come  near 
him.  While  these  pusillanimous  thoughts  were  going 
through  his  head,  the  rear  door  of  the  villa  opened  and 
Franz  Liszt  himself  appeared,  accompanied  only  by  a 
gardener's  assistant.  He  wore  the  broad-brimmed  hat 
and  the  long  skirted  black  coat  of  the  secular  ecclesiastic. 
His  snow  white  hair  fell  far  down  over  his  unstarched 
collar,  and  between  the  bottom  of  his  rather  short 
trousers  and  his  low  shoes  just  a  strip  of  black  silk 
stocking  could  be  seen.  Almost  without  a  stoop  the 
tall,  hoary  figure  advanced  up  the  middle  path  which 
was  flanked  with  rows  of  trimmed  firs.  Now  the 
Master  was  only  ten  paces  away  from  Florian,  who 
gazed  upon  him  overwhelmed  with  terror  and  awe,  as 
upon  some  long-expected  vision  from  another  world. 
He  stepped  aside  to  leave  the  path  open  for  the  Master 
and  forced  himself  backward  in  his  excitement  half  way 
through  the  hedge  of  firs.  Then  he  grabbed  his  hat 


The  Examination  153 

from  his  head,  and,  as  the  Master  came  still  nearer,  he 
bowed  literally  to  the  very  ground. 

Liszt  had  glanced  at  him  sharply  as  soon  as  he  de- 
scried him.  He  hesitated  a  moment  in  an  effort  to 
place  the  young  man,  who  was  evidently  one  of  his 
disciples;  but  the  bow  was  so  grotesque  that  he  could 
not  help  laughing.  He  stopped,  raised  his  hat,  nodded 
pleasantly,  and  said,  "  Pchah,  you  do  me  too  much  honor 
—  Pchah,  too  much  honor !  Hoho !  With  whom,  pray, 
have  I  — " 

"  My  name  is  Mayr !  "  burst  out  Florian,  summon- 
ing all  his  courage.  He  would  cheerfully  have  sacri- 
ficed his  last  shirt  at  this  moment  if  his  name  had 
been  anything  but  just  Mayr,  and  as  if  to  modify  some- 
what the  bad  impression,  he  added  quickly,  "  Florian 
Mayr,  please  —  M-a-y-r  —  of  Bayreuth." 

The  pleasant,  smiling  face  of  the  old  gentleman  be- 
came at  once  serious  as  he  heard  the  word  "  Bayreuth." 
He  raised  his  bushy  white  brows  rapidly  several  times, 
pressed  his  lips  close  together,  nodded  as  if  with  satis- 
faction, and  gave  expression  to  that  peculiar  guttural 
sound  which  may  perhaps  be  suggested  by  the  word 
"  pchah." 

"  Pchah,  Bayreuth !  —  Bravo !  "  Then  he  regarded 
Florian  with  a  little  more  attention  and  asked,  point- 
ing significantly  to  his  long  hair,  "  Also  an  artist  ?  " 

The  benevolent  expression  of  the  old  man's  kindly 
eyes  suddenly  inspired  the  timid  Florian  with  extra- 
ordinary courage,  and  he  replied  eagerly,  "  Yes  sir,  I 
am  a  pianist,  but  I  would  like  to  become  a  real  artist. 
On  that  account  I  have  dared — "  He  was  unable  to 
say  more ;  his  excitement  suddenly  choked  the  words  in 
his  throat. 


154  Florian  Mayr 

"  Oh,  you  want  to  study  with  me  ?  Eh  bien  — 
Bravo!  We  shall  see,  my  young  friend!  Come  and 
see  me  to-morrow  morning  and  play  something  for  me. 
Come  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning.  You  are  from 
Bayreuth  ?  Bravo !  Have  you  brought  a  recommenda- 
tion from  Wahnf ried  ?  " 

"  No  sir ;  I  am,  I  have  —  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,  I 
haven't  any  recommendation  at  all ! "  stammered 
Florian  in  dismay. 

Liszt  shrugged  his  broad  shoulders  and  shook  his 
head  meditatively.  But  as  his  eye  caught  sight  of  the 
anxious  look  of  the  young  man  he  smiled  at  him  en- 
couragingly and  said,  "  Pchah,  what's  the  odds  ?  Pro- 
tection is  for  the  weak.  Recommend  yourself,  my 
young  friend!  Well  then,  to-morrow  morning  at  eight 
o'clock !  Au  revoir !  "  He  lifted  his  hat  politely,  and 
then  turned  into  the  next  side  path  with  the  gardener's 
man.  Florian  extricated  himself  from  the  thicket  of 
firs  and  rushed  off  half  crazy  with  excitement  and  de- 
light For  two  hours  he  raced  about  the  beautiful  park 
almost  at  a  run,  but  without  an  eye  for  the  picturesque 
charms  of  the  place.  He  felt  that  he  was  a  Hans-in- 
Luck  without  compare,  a  shameless  child  of  fortune,  for 
he  had  realized  so  soon  and  so  easily  the  great  longing 
of  his  life.  In  his  burst  of  joyful  intoxication 
Florian  did  not  stop  to  think  that  the  mere  invitation 
to  play  to  Liszt  by  no  means  meant  his  acceptance  as  a 
pupil  of  the  Master.  The  dread  of  the  examination 
did  not  come  to  him  until  he  lay  in  bed  that  night,  but 
then  he  felt  it  with  an  intensity  that  was  frightful. 
How  easily  it  might  happen  that  in  his  excitement  he 
might  play  miserably,  and  then  it  would  be  no  wonder 
if  the  Master  in  righteous  wrath  at  his  unworthy  au- 


The  Examination  155 

dacity  should  show  him  the  door  once  for  all!  He 
would  never  be  able  to  recover  from  a  disgrace  like 
that  as  long  as  he  lived.  It  was  in  vain  that  he  tried 
with  all  his  mind  to  give  his  thoughts  another  direc- 
tion. In  vain  he  counted  a  hundred  and  even  said  the 
Lord's  prayer  a  dozen  times  one  after  the  other, —  the 
horrible  nightmare  was  there  and  would  not  be 
frightened  away.  He  was  not  going  to  play  any 
dangerous  pieces ;  he  would  play  the  "  Appassionata," 
with  which  he  had  made  a  sensation  when  he  was  only 
a  little  boy  of  fifteen,  and,  as  the  phrase  goes,  he  could 
play  it  in  his  sleep.  He  went  through  the  whole  sonata 
in  thought,  tapping  the  bedclothes  with  his  fingers. 
No,  it  was  quite  impossible  that  he  should  suffer  ship- 
wreck with  the  "  Appassionata."  He  nevertheless  did 
not  succeed  in  quieting  his  fears.  Bathed  in  perspira- 
tion, he  thrashed  about  in  bed,  and  it  was  after  mid- 
night before  he  was  able  to  get  a  little  sleep.  But  he 
was  awake  the  next  morning  before  six  o'clock,  and 
now  his  tortures  began  in  real  earnest.  Sleep  was  no 
more  to  be  thought  of.  No  breakfast  could  be  had  in 
the  hotel  so  early,  and  so  he  got  up  and  walked  about 
for  an  hour,  only  to  return  more  miserable  than 
ever,  with  pains  in  all  his  limbs  and  even  fits  of  nausea. 
He  drank  a  cordial  with  his  coffee  but  even  that  did  not 
do  him  any  good.  His  stomach  was  completely  out  of 
order  and  he  was  in  the  same  miserable  state  as  the 
widow  Stoltenhagen  after  she  had  partaken  of  his 
"  health-coffee."  Under  such  sorrowful  circumstances 
the  eighth  hour  of  this  momentous  day  came  to  a  close, 
and  in  spite  of  all  Florian  stood  punctually  at  the  stroke 
of  eight  before  the  Hofgartnerei.  But  he  was  afraid 
to  enter  the  house.  He  was  convinced  that  in  his 


156  Florian  Mayr 

wretched  condition  he  would  play  abominably,  and  he 
meditated  whether  it  would  not  be  better  to  take  refuge 
in  flight,  never  set  foot  in  Weimar  again,  and  content 
himself  with  the  modest  existence  of  the  better  sort  of 
piano  teacher  for  the  upper  classes.  At  that  minute 
the  letter-carrier  rang  at  the  villa,  and  the  next  moment 
the  friendly  Pauline  opened  the  door  and  took  the  mail 
from  him.  As  she  did  so  she  espied  the  quaking 
Florian  and  beckoned  to  him  eagerly,  calling  out, 
"  You're  the  Herr  Mayr  with  a-y-r,  ain't  you  ?  Hurry 
up  and  come  in!  The  Herr  Doctor  is  waiting  for 
you!" 

Like  a  criminal  caught  in  the  act,  Florian  slunk  into 
the  house  and  it  would  not  have  astonished  him  at  all 
if  the  good  Pauline  had  given  him  a  sound  whack  on 
the  back  as  he  went  by.  Laboriously  and  with  trembling 
knees  he  climbed  the  stairs.  He  was  wretched  and  had 
a  bad  conscience  to  boot,  like  a  thief  who  steals  for  the 
first  time  and  without  any  talent  for  the  business.  If 
Pauline  had  not  followed  so  closely  on  his  heels  he 
would  probably  have  turned  round  even  now  and  made 
off  like  a  hare.  It  seemed  to  him  an  eternity  before  he 
got  upstairs,  and  yet  he  found  himself  before  he  knew 
it  in  the  large  reception-room  in  which  Spiridion,  the 
Master's  Greek  secretary,  was  sitting  at  the  window 
reading  a  French  newspaper.  In  his  confusion  Florian 
made  this  dark  gentleman  a  low  bow,  which,  however, 
was  hardly  noticed  by  the  secretary,  who  bestowed  a 
questioning  look  on  Pauline  and  then  buried  himself 
again  in  his  paper  as  the  latter  replied  "  that  it  was  all 
right."  Pauline  then  entered  the  study  of  the  Master, 
who  sat  at  a  writing-table,  gave  him  the  letters  and 
announced  Herr  Mayr. 


The  Examination  157 

"  AH,  Bravo !  Pauline,  I  don't  want  to  be  dis- 
turbed —  My  young  friend  is  going  to  give  me  an 
artistic  treat."  And  with  a  gesture  of  invitation  he 
requested  Florian  to  come  in. 

Florian  was  not  even  able  to  say  good-morning.  He 
made  one  of  his  spasmodic,  low  bows  and  then  stood 
with  cold,  moist  hands,  pale  and  trembling,  near  the 
door  which  Pauline  had  shut  behind  him  noiselessly. 

"  Well,  what  shall  we  play  ?  "  asked  Liszt,  without 
looking  at  him,  as  he  scrutinized  the  newly  arrived 
letters,  finally  opening  one  which  he  began  to  read  with 
evident  interest. 

"  I  thought  perhaps  —  Beethoven,"  stammered  Flor- 
ian in  a  scarcely  audible  voice.  The  Master  prob- 
ably did  not  hear  him.  He  quietly  finished  reading 
the  letter  which  seemed  to  amuse  him  greatly,  for  he 
smiled  as  if  vastly  entertained  by  it.  Then  he  dropped 
the  letter  carelessly  on  the  table  and  said  lightly,  "  Ah, 
Beethoven !  Bravo ! "  He  had  understood  after  all. 
An  encouraging  look  from  his  wonderful  eyes  and  a 
benevolent  smile  about  the  closed-mouth,  united  with 
a  commanding  gesture  toward  the  grand  piano,  and 
Florian  Mayr  sat  down  at  it  with  paralyzed  hands  and 
trembling  knees.  He  touched  the  keys  and  played  the 
introductory  measures  of  the  "  Appassionata,"  pianis- 
simo, as  marked.  Indeed,  he  played  so  softly  that  he 
was  afraid  the  notes  could  not  be  heard  at  all;  at  least 
he  himself  could  hear  nothing,  there  was  such  a 
roaring  in  his  ears.  He  could  only  see  his  fingers 
crawling  like  long  thin  beetle-legs  under  the  thorax  of 
his  huge  hands.  But  these  beetle-legs  crawled  about 
in  a  perfectly  independent  sort  of  way.  He  ceased  to 
feel  any  connection  whatever  between  himself  and  his 


158  Florian  Mayr 

hands.  Then  he  heard  from  the  direction  in  which 
Liszt  sat  a  low  "  Bravo !  "  followed  by  a  sudden  wrench 
in  his  hands  as  if  all  ten  fingers  had  been  struck  at 
once,  and  suddenly  he  felt  that  he  was  again  master 
of  these  hands  and  played  away  with  reckless  con- 
fidence. 

When  he  had  finished  the  Master  patted  him  heartily 
on  the  shoulder  and  said  with  a  benevolent  smile,  "  Very 
good,  very  good!  To  be  sure  the  piece  can  be  played 
differently,  but  your  interpretation  of  it  is  quite  justi- 
fiable." 

Florian  rose  from  the  piano-stool  and  asked  bash- 
fully, whether  the  Master  would  allow  him  to  be- 
come one  of  his  pupils  and  whether  he  thought  that  he 
had  the  stuff  for  a  first-class  pianist  in  him. 

At  this  Liszt  took  hold  of  Florian's  left  hand  as  it 
hung  from  his  shoulder,  lifted  this  mighty  "  piano- 
tool  "  upon  two  fingers,  examined  it  carefully  and  then 
said,  with  a  nod  of  satisfaction,  "  You  have  a  good 
hand,  pchah  —  and  especially  a  good  head."  He  let 
the  hand  drop  and  stroked  the  youth's  high,  round  fore- 
head as  a  grandfather  would  that  of  a  favorite  child, 
smiling  most  benignantly  as  he  did  so.  "  I  liked  your 
head  from  the  first,"  he  added.  "  Just  stay  with  me, 
my  young  friend,  and  come  along  with  the  others  when- 
ever you  like ! " 

Florian  could  have  shouted  with  exultation.  He 
could  not  speak  a  word,  but  he  grasped  the  Master's 
hand  and  pressed  a  kiss  upon  it.  Then  he  answered  a 
few  more  questions  about  his  education,  his  studies 
hitherto  and  his  personal  circumstances,  and  was  then 
dismissed  for  this  time. 

As  on  the  day  before,  Florian  rushed  out  again  to- 


The  Examination  159 

day  into  the  pa  I  ;nd  the  first  thing  he  did,  when  he 
found  himself  alone,  was  to  burst  into  tears,  into  tears 
of  pure  joy.  He  was  a  lad  who  had  been  brought  up 
on  hard  knocks.  Sentimentality  was  by  no  means  in 
his  line,  and  the  last  time  that  he  had  wept  was  when 
his  mother  was  at  death's  door.  He  let  the  warm  tear- 
drops flow  without  feeling  ashamed  of  them  at  all,  but 
he  nevertheless  kept  out  of  the  way  of  people.  Over 
there  by  the  artificial  ruin  he  found  a  lonely  place, 
where  he  dried  his  face,  blew  his  nose  vigorously  and 
burst  into  loud  laughter.  He  set  his  beautiful  new  silk 
hat  on  the  ground,  jumped  twenty-five  times  over  it  and 
back,  performed  a  number  of  other  gymnastic  exer- 
cises,—  and  felt  perfectly  well  again.  But  now  he  be- 
gan to  long  keenly  for  a  sympathetic  soul  to  share  his 
triumph  with  him  and  he  hurried  with  gigantic  strides 
through  the  lower  park  back  to  the  city  and  went  to  the 
Hotel  Erbprinz,  which  Fraulein  Badacs  had  indicated 
to  him  as  her  residence. 

Fraulein  Badacs  would  hardly  be  visible  yet,  so  he 
was  informed  in  answer  to  his  inquiry.  It  could  not  be 
possible,  it  seemed  to  Florian,  that  anyone  could  sleep 
until  nine  o'clock  on  a  beautiful  spring  morning  like 
this.  He  asked  impatiently  the  number  of  Ilonka's 
room  and  rushed  up  the  stairs,  but,  just  as  he  had 
doubled  up  his  knuckles  to  knock  sharply  at  the  number 
indicated,  the  door  opened  suddenly  and  a  very  elegant 
gentleman  came  out.  Pausing  a  moment  on  the 
threshold,  he  turned  and  whispered  back  into  the  room, 
"  Adieu,  mon  chat!  " 

As  he  shut  the  door  behind  him  the  gentleman  caught 
sight  of  the  tall  young  man  in  the  black  suit  and  silk 
hat,  quickly  averted  his  head  and  hurried  noiselessly 


160  Florian  Mayr 

downstairs  with  the  greatest  rapidity.  It  was  all  so 
quick  that  Florian  really  had  not  been  able  to  recognize 
his  face.  He  only  knew  that  the  gentleman  was  slender, 
blond,  and  very  well  dressed.  He  stared  after  him 
with  open  mouth;  he  thought  he  had  not  seen  aright, 
—  but  no,  nonsense !  —  he  had  made  some  mistake  — 
the  number  of  the  room  must  be  wrong.  He  descended 
the  stairs  again  rapidly  and  said  to  the  waiter  who  had 
just  given  him  the  information,  "  Oh,  excuse  me,  what 
was  the  number  of  Fraulein  Badacs's  room  ?  " 

"  Twenty-two,"  replied  the  waiter  with  a  knowing 
smile. 

Florian  shook  his  head  and  said  doubtfully,  "  You 
mean  twenty-three,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  No,  twenty-two,  please !  "  insisted  the  waiter  with 
the  greatest  clearness. 

"  Yes,  but,"  stammered  Florian  helplessly,  "  a  gen- 
tleman just.  .  .  ." 

"  Oh,  yes !  "  continued  the  waiter,  smiling  still  more 
knowingly.  "  That  was  the  doctor  —  that  is,  mas- 
seur." 

"  Oh,  indeed !  Fraulein  has  a  masseur  ?  "  inquired 
Florian,  gazing  reflectively  at  the  floor  and  a  little  con- 
fused at  the  same  time,  for  this  rascal  of  a  waiter  had 
a  confoundedly  knowing  smile.  "  And  does  the  doc- 
tor speak  French  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  believe  he  speaks  seven  languages." 

"  Indeed !  Well  then,  I'll  leave  my  card  here,  and 
you  tell  Fraulein  I'll  come  back  later." 

"  Very  well,  sir !  "  The  waiter  bit  his  lip  and  beat 
a  hasty  retreat. 

Florian  repaired  first  to  his  modest  inn  in  order  to 
don  a  more  comfortable  costume,  In  the  meantime  he 


The  Examination  161 

reflected  upon  the  extraordinary  affair.  In  certain 
things  he  possessed  to  be  sure  a  very  harmless  cast  of 
mind,  but  in  this  case  he  could  not  quite  rid  himself 
of  a  certain  unfavorable  suspicion  against  Fraulein 
Badacs.  Oh,  dear,  yes,  there  were  masseurs  enough ! 
Ete  had  heard  that  very  aristocratic  ladies  were  even  ac- 
customed to  take  rubbing-artists  of  that  kind  about 
with  them  when  they  traveled;  but  after  all  it  was  im- 
possible to  consider  his  beautiful  Hungarian  so  aristo- 
cratic as  all  that.  He  scratched  his  head,  cut  horrible 
grimaces,  and  growled  out  a  beautiful  selection  of 
Bavarian  oaths,  thus  succeeding  at  last  in  regaining  his 
equanimity.  Why  should  he  bother  himself  about  such 
crazy  women's  affairs  on  such  a  day  of  happiness  and 
jubilation  as  to-day?  As  soon  as  he  had  changed  his 
clothes  he  started  out  to  look  for  lodgings. 

As  he  wished  if  possible  to  live  in  the  near  vicinity 
of  the  Master  he  began  his  search  in  the  neighborhood 
of  the  Art  School.  In  the  Amalienstrasse,  opposite 
the  cemetery,  he  soon  found  what  he  sought,  a  room  on 
the  ground  floor,  the  furniture  of  which  consisted  of 
samples  of  the  skill  of  his  landlord,  a  cabinet-maker. 
Everything  was  of  oak  and  beautifully  carved,  the  pil- 
lows and  cushions  all  quite  new,  a  canopy  over  the  bed, 
and  painted  beams  across  the  ceiling.  Florian  hardly 
dared  to  ask  what  all  this  magnificence  rented  for ;  but 
the  room  proved  to  be  very  much  less  expensive,  al- 
though to  be  sure  smaller,  than  his  dreary  barrack  in 
Berlin.  He  therefore  leased  it  after  making  sure  that 
he  would  be  allowed  to  play  the  piano  as  much  as  he 
liked,  but  with  closed  windows  of  course,  according  to 
police  regulations.  As  it  was  unfortunately  impossible 
to  get  a  grand  piano  into  the  little  room,  Florian  sighed 


162  Florian  Mayr 

at  the  thought  that  he  would  have  to  content  himself 
once  more  with  a  wretched  upright.  He  found  that  he 
was  not  the  only  one  of  his  kind  in  the  house  of  the 
cabinet-maker,  for  over  opposite  on  the  other  side  of  the 
carriage  entrance  lived,  as  his  landlord's  garrulous  wife 
informed  him,  a  Polish  family  consisting  of  a  mother 
and  two  daughters,  the  elder  of  whom  also  "  went  to 
Liszt  " ;  and  above  him  was  lodged  an  Englishman  with 
two  grown-up  sons,  one  of  whom  played  the  violin 
and  the  other,  as  the  landlady  expressed  it,  "  did  a  lit- 
tle bass." 

Florian  returned  to  the  hotel,  packed  up  his  few 
belongings  and  had  them  taken  to  the  Amalienstrasse. 
Then  he  decided  to  try  his  luck  once  more  with  the 
beautiful  Ilonka.  But  still  he  hesitated  at  the  door  of 
the  Erbprinz  and  finally  passed  by  it  quickly.  It 
would  certainly  be  very  awkward  to  meet  this  time  per- 
haps the  —  corn-doctor  on  her  threshold, —  in  a  word  he 
would  not  see  her  now.  After  all  it  could  only  have  the 
effect  of  spoiling  his  jubilant  spirits.  He  preferred  to 
take  a  walk  up  to  the  Belvedere,  where  he  breakfasted. 
When  he  returned  it  was  after  one  o'clock  and  he  walked 
back  through  the  park  to  the  city,  in  an  extremely 
vigorous  condition  of  mind  and  body. 

Near  the  Tea  House  he  stumbled  upon  a  small  com- 
pany of  young  ladies  and  gentlmen  among  whom,  as 
he  went  by,  he  recognized  his  Ilonka.  She  wore  a  very 
pretty  and  apparently  expensive  spring  toilette  and 
looked  as  blooming  and  rosy  as  a  freshly  washed  cherub. 
Hardly  had  she  recognized  her  bearish  friend,  when  she 
deserted  her  companions,  and,  running  toward  him, 
thrust  her  arm  through  his  and  pressed  his  right  hand 
energetically  with  both  hers. 


The  Examination  163 

"  I  congratulate  you,  my  dear  friend !  "  she  called 
out  "Have  heard  everything.  Told  Master  that  I 
knew  you  and  you  are  very  celebrated,  very  rude  fellow ! 
Master  said  you  had  a  tete  de  bronze,  liked  you  very 
much,  you  play  little  like  school-master,  but  very  Ger- 
man and  solid.  And  you  know,  Herr  Mayr,  what  else 
he  said,  the  Master?  You  shall  give  me  lessons,  just 
think,  me !  C'est  cJiarmant !  Ha !  ha !  ha !  I  laughed 
so,  but  dear  Master  was  angry.  He  say  I  play  vulgar, 
comme  un  diable  boUeux,  but,  when  I  cried  hard,  dear 
Master  gave  me  a  kiss.  Master  cannot  see  it  that  I  cry, 
always  has  to  give  me  a  kiss." 

"  Is  it  really  true  ?  I  am  to  give  you  lessons  ? " 
asked  Florian,  interrupting  her  charming  chatter  and  at 
the  same  time  involuntarily  pressing  her  arm  closer 
against  his  own. 

"You  like  that?" 

"  Yes,  of  course  —  that  is, — " 

"  Ah,  what  is  ?  Stupid  fellow !  Say  something  nice 
now ! "  scolded  Fraulein  Ilonka  laughingly,  as  she 
snuggled  closer  to  him. 

Florian  did  not  know  what  answer  to  make  to  this, 
and  he  began  therefore,  very  awkwardly,  "  By  the  way, 
I  was  at  your  place  once  this  morning." 

"  Yes,  I  heard,"  replied  Ilonka  indifferently. 

"Were  you  ill?" 

"Why  ill?" 

"  Why,  because  I  met  the  doctor  at  your  door." 

Ilonka  winced  and  exclaimed  in  a  low  voice,  "  Szent- 
seges  isten!"  [Holy  God]. 

"  What  did  you  say  ?  Do  you  have  yourself  massaged 
regularly.  The  waiter  told  me  the  man  was  a  mas- 


164  Florian  Mayr 

She  looked  up  at  him  gratefully  and,  smiling  in- 
nocently, said,  "  Yes,  of  course,  it  was  masseur,  had  a 
little  stiff  arm,  was  afraid  I  could  not  play !  " 

"  I  say,  look  here,"  returned  Florian  with  grave 
eagerness ;  "  if  you  take  lessons  of  me  you  won't  be 
obliged  to  have  yourself  massaged  by  a  doctor  any 
longer.  I  have  studied  medicine  —  I'm  up  to  that 
too!" 

"  Oh,  go  away !  "  cried  Ilonka  with  a  knowing  laugh, 
giving  him  a  sharp  dig  in  the  ribs. 

Florian  was  silent  for  a  while;  then  he  continued 
reflectively,  "  I  don't  know  very  much  about  French, 
but  Adieu,  mon  chat  means  '  good-by,  my  kitty,'  doesn't 
it?  That  seems  to  me  for  a  masseur  just  a  little, 
well—" 

"Exactly!  That's  just  what  I  thought,"  cried 
Ilonka  quickly,  knitting  her  eyebrows  drolly.  "  Very 
impertinent  fellow,  this  masseur.  I  am  not  his  kitty, 
teremtete!  I  shall  next  time  forbid  it." 

"  Truly?  "  exclaimed  Florian  hopefully. 

She  pressed  his  arm  firmly  in  answer,  and  he  entered 
the  city  of  Weimar  proudly  with  his  Ilonka  on  his 
arm. 


CHAPTER  IX 
The  Guileless  Fool 

IT  was  a  beautiful  day  in  May  and  Florian  Mayr  felt 
perfectly  satisfied  with  the  world  and  all  its  inhabitants, 
—  including  himself.  He  had  removed  his  boots  and 
coat  and  lay  comfortably  stretched  out  for  the  first  time 
on  his  canopied  bed  in  order  that  he  might  digest  in  com- 
plete repose  the  good  dinner  which  he  had  enjoyed  in 
the  company  of  his  fair  Ilonka  and  many  other  agree- 
able associates  of  both  sexes  at  the  Hotel  Erbprinz. 
His  Hungarian  friend  had  found  it  by  no  means  an 
easy  task  to  persuade  him  to  such  an  extravagance  for 
he  was  strictly  economical  and  knew  exactly  what  his 
means  permitted  him  to  do  and  what  not.  But  to-day 
in  his  joyous  humor  he  was  not  going  to  be  a  spoil- 
sport. He  had  his  suspicions  that  among  those  present 
there  were  some  who  had  aroused  his  displeasure  in  the 
garden  of  the  Hotel  Chemnitius  the  day  before.  At  all 
events  everyone's  behavior  to-day  had  been  entirely 
proper,  in  fact,  more  restrained  than  one  is  accustomed 
to  expect  from  artists.  Florian  felt  that  he  was  in  the 
midst  of  a  very  refined  circle  and  Fraulein  Badacs,  who 
sat  next  to  him,  strengthened  this  conviction  by  whis- 
pering all  manner  of  flattering  things  about  each  mem- 
ber of  the  company  in  turn.  All  these  young  ladies 
came  of  extraordinarily  good  families ;  "  daughter  of 
his  excellency  "  was  pretty  much  the  least ;  they  had  re- 
ceived the  best  possible  education  and  it  was  necessary 
165 


166  Florian  Mayr 

to  treat  them  with  great  consideration.  The  gentlemen 
of  the  party  were  in  her  opinion  all  "  very  important," 
some  of  them,  in  fact,  downright  men  of  genius,  all 
"  serious  men  and  perfect  cavaliers."  In  an  assembly 
whose  members  combined  so  many  external  as  well  as 
spiritual  advantages,  the  good  Florian  felt  at  first  sub- 
dued. But  on  Ilonka's  account  he  was  heartily  glad 
to  find  her  associating  on  easy  terms  with  so  select  a 
company.  He  had,  indeed,  at  the  very  beginning  of  the 
dinner,  in  answer  to  the  question  how  life  in  Weimar 
had  impressed  him,  stated  his  opinion  pretty  forcibly 
concerning  the  "  clowns,  idiots,  and  grotesque  asses," 
whom  he  encountered  on  the  street  and  especially  con- 
cerning the  "  disgusting  mob "  that  sat  yesterday 
around  the  punch  bowl,  and  all  these  defamatory 
epithets  had  been  received  by  the  company  at  table  with 
an  interchange  of  intelligent  glances  and  acquiescent 
nods.  Florian  was  very  glad  to  find  among  his  col- 
leagues men  of  such  high-minded  sympathies  and,  in 
order  to  show  that  he  knew  how  to  do  the  right  thing 
and  appreciated  jolly  sociability,  he  finally  treated  the 
whole  party  to  two  bottles  of  champagne, —  not,  to  be 
sure,  of  the  most  expensive  brand.  When  it  came  to 
paying,  he  grew  quite  sober  of  a  sudden  and  these  charm- 
ing ladies  and  gentlemen  could  not  prevail  upon  him  to 
bear  them  company  in  their  further  amusements.  The 
sacrifice  of  twenty-three  marks  seemed  to  him  quite 
enough  for  one  day. 

While  he  was  thus  taking  his  afternoon  nap,  peace- 
ful and  self-satisfied,  soothed  by  the  conviction  that  for 
this  large  expenditure  he  had  at  least  purchased  the 
acquaintanceship  of  some  estimable  people  and  prob- 
ably also  their  good  opinion  of  himself,  the  company 


The  Guileless  Fool  167 

lie  had  left  behind  continued  to  enjoy  themselves,  and 
still,  indeed,  at  Florian  Mayr's  expense.  In  fact  he 
had  scarcely  left  the  room  when  all  the  ladies  present 
began  to  snicker  and  the  gentlemen  burst  into  loud 
laughter. 

llonka  smiled,  too,  but  she  was  a  little  bit  embar- 
rassed nevertheless  as  she  looked  round  the  circle  of  her 
friends.  "  !Ko,  now,  go  along  I  "  she  pouted.  "  You're 
not  nice.  What  is  there  to  laugh  ?  " 

At  this  a  regular  storm  of  merriment  burst  forth. 
They  thumped  one  another ;  the  gentlemen  slapped  their 
thighs  and  doubled  up  in  their  joy;  the  ladies  shook 
with  laughter;  one  of  them  choked  herself  with  coffee 
and  had  to  be  slapped  on  the  back.  A  very  young 
Eoumanian,  handsome  as  a  picture,  with  elegant  clothes 
and  good  manners,  threw  kisses  across  the  table  to  the 
Badacs  and  cried  enthusiastically :  "  My  compliments, 
mademoiselle,  it  was  brilliant, —  'brilliant!  How  you 
do  lead  that  honesjt  fellow  around  by  the  nose!  In 
what  old  curiosity  shop  did  you  pick  up  that  specimen  ? 
Holy  Xepomuk,  what  respect  the  man  must  have  con- 
ceived for  us !  What  did  you  make  out  of  me,  pray  ?  " 

"  Je  vous  ai  fait  prince,  mon  charmant  bebe.  I  said 
that  the  Ispirescu  were  very  ancient  princely  house, 
really  entitled  to  throne  of  Koumania.  Then  I  said 
national  opposition  party  picked  you  out  as  future  pre- 
tender for  national  dynasty  because  you  displayed  re- 
markable ability  in  earliest  youth.  But  you,  mon  bebe, 
had  renounced  for  the  present  throne  of  Roumania  be- 
cause you  preferred  to  become  king  of  piano." 

"Bravo!  bravo!  Eljen! "  they  all  cried  amid  re- 
newed laughter.  And  then  llonka  had  to  relate  what 
merry  flam  she  had  put  upon  their  new  associate  about 


168  Florian  Mayr 

each  of  the  party  present.  She  was  so  accomplished 
a  hand  at  lying  and  possessed  such  a  lively  imagination 
that  she  seized  this  opportunity  to  enlarge  materially 
upon  the  little  tales  she  had  served  up  to  Florian  and 
to  deck  them  out  with  all  kinds  of  half-concealed  but 
sharp  points  which  were  greeted  with  jubilation  by  all 
except  the  one  hit. 

Meanwhile  the  waiter  with  the  uncommonly  knowing 
smile  went  back  and  forth  with  his  ears  pricked  up 
and  did  some  thinking  on  his  own  account ;  had  he  not, 
with  a  talent  scarcely  inferior  to  that  of  the  Hungarian 
pianist,  told  the  good  Florian  an  enormous  whopper 
too, —  and  so  he  felt  in  a  way  as  if  he  were  part  of 
this  merry  company  and  to  each  of  the  guests  he  vouch- 
safed a  ray  of  his  incomparably  knowing  and  amiable 
smile.  And  when  the  company  broke  up,  he  could  not 
refrain  from  whispering  in  the  ear  of  the  last  gentle- 
man whom  he  helped  on  with  his  paletot  the  story  of 
Herr  Mayr's  meeting  with  the  masseur.  Of  course 
that  same  evening  all  Weimar  knew  it  and  from  the 
description  everyone  recognized  the  masseur  at  once: 
a  highly  elegant  cavalier  and  a  distinguished  artist  as 
well,  who  enjoyed  and  deserved  the  reputation  of  being 
a  dangerous  Don  Juan.  This  gentleman  heard  of  it, 
too,  that  very  evening  as  he  sat  at  table  in  the  Kussi- 
scher  Hof.  He  was  told  that  the  headwaiter  of  the 
Hotel  Erbprinz  had  appointed  him  body-physician  and 
masseur  to  the  Hungarian  pianist.  He  was  over- 
whelmed with  good-natured  gibes  but  retained  sufficient 
good  humor  himself  to  join  in  the  laugh,  although  he 
was  greatly  annoyed  to  be  caught  so  absurdly  in  the 
very  first  visit  he  had  paid  his  old  friend.  As  for 
Ilonka  she  was  accustomed  to  shake  off  annoyances  of 


The  Guileless  Fool  169 

that  kind  as  a  duck  sheds  water.  She  was  very  angry 
at  Herr  Hans  von  Oettern,  or  rather  Jean  d'Oettern, 
as  he,  being  half  Parisian,  preferred  to  be  called,  and 
she  swore  that  she  should  never  let  herself  be  seen  in  his 
company  again.  But  that  was  all  there  was  about  it 
and  it  gave  her  no  great  offense  when  her  associates 
joked  her  about  her  masseur. 

But  Florian  Mayr  had  on  that  same  evening  become 
a  celebrated  man.  The  whole  Liszt  circle  was  laugh- 
ing about  him  and  had  already  fastened  a  nick-name 
upon  him.  The  text  of  Wagner's  Parsifal  had  just 
been  published  and  it  was  the  literary  event  of  the 
season ;  it  was  of  course  almost  inevitable  that  Florian 
should  be  dubbed  "  the  guileless  fool."  A  strict  moral- 
ist was,  indeed,  something  quite  new  in  this  circle, 
which  was  made  up,  partly  of  the  harmlessly  frivolous, 
but  for  the  most  part  of  the  morbidly  nervous,  hys- 
terical, blase,  and  debauched.  All  were  most  eager  to 
make  the  acquaintance  of  the  "  guileless  fool "  and  in 
this  way  without  any  prearrangement  there  was  formed 
then  and  there  a  secret  conspiracy  of  all  against  one. 
It  was  out  of  his  easy  credulity  that  they  proposed  to 
get  their  fun  and  so  each  wished  to  contribute  his  part 
to  keep  his  illusions  alive  as  long  as  possible.  When 
finally  these  illusions  should  suddenly  all  crumble  to 
pieces  around  him,  why  that  would  be  a  fresh  source  of 
fun.  Ilonka  Badacs  strenuously  opposed  the  dark 
schemes  of  her  nearer  friends  who  employed  all  their 
wit  in  exploiting  the  mad  fancies  of  their  friend,  and 
especially  the  story  of  the  masseur,  as  subject  matter 
for  further  bantering.  She  declared  she  would  never 
consent  to  have  the  good  honest  lad  made  the  butt  of 
such  shameful  mockery ;  she  would  confess  all  her  lies 


170  Florian  Mayr 

to  him  herself  and  let  him  know  the  real  truth  about 
her  precious  companions.  But  they  were  not  to  be 
frightened  off;  not  one  of  them  took  her  threat  seri- 
ously. 

Florian  did  not  awake  from  his  pleasant  siesta  till 
towards  evening.  The  Englishmen  upstairs  woke  him. 
He  had  slept  through  the  violin  practice  of  one  of  the 
sons  but  now  the  other  one  began  a  vicious  howling  and 
grumbling  on  his  cello  and  there  could  be  no  further 
thought  of  repose.  Florian  sprang  from  his  bed  and 
went  into  the  little  dark  closet  adjoining  which  served 
as  washroom  and  wardrobe  and  had  a  little  window 
opening  on  the  driveway.  This  little  window  was  open 
and  through  it  he  could  hear  with  appalling  distinct- 
ness an  infernal  row,  which  the  Polish  girl  was  kick- 
ing up  on  her  piano  in  the  ground-floor  room  opposite. 

"  Upon  my  soul,  I  can  see  that  this  is  likely  to  be 
very  diverting !  "  growled  Florian,  as  he  washed  his 
hands,  and  he  began  to  consider  the  feasibility  of  com- 
ing to  some  understanding  with  his  neighbors  about  a 
definite  division  of  working  hours  that  they  might  dis- 
turb one  another  as  little  as  possible.  He  tried  to  write 
a  letter  to  his  father  but  between  the  concert  above  and 
the  concert  below  he  found  it  impossible ;  besides  it  had 
grown  too  dark  to  write,  so  he  gave  it  up  and  went  out 
to  look  for  a  place  to  get  supper. 

He  could  not  refrain  in  passing  from  glancing  in  at 
the  window  where  the  Polish  family  lived,  for  they 
had  forgotten  to  let  down  their  shades.  At  an  upright 
piano  sat  a  young  girl,  who  seemed  at  most  sixteen,  a 
pale,  forlorn  looking  creature,  neither  pretty  nor  ugly, 
clad  only  in  a  dark  undergarment  and  an  old  jacket, 
the  sleeves  of  which  she  had  outgrown.  To  save  oil 


The  Guileless  Fool  171 

a  table  had  been  moved  close  to  the  piano  and  a  lamp 
placed  on  one  corner  of  it ;  this  lighted  the  music  badly 
enough  but  at  the  same  time  it  furnished  the  necessary 
light  for  the  labors  of  the  other  two  occupants  of  the 
room.  These  were  a  sickly,  emaciated  woman,  though 
still  young,  and  a  little  girl  of  about  ten.  The  woman 
was  peeling  potatoes  and  the  child,  with  her  fingers  in 
her  ears  and  her  sharp  little  face  bent  over  a  book,  was 
doubtless  learning  her  lessons. 

The  etude  was  now  ended  and  the  older  girl  leaned 
back  in  her  chair,  exhausted;  she  passed  her  finger  tips 
over  her  forehead  and  pressed  her  temples  with  both 
hands.  Then  her  little  sister  reached  across  the  table 
and  handed  her  the  book  to  have  her  lesson  heard.  It 
did  not  seem  to  go  smoothly,  for  very  soon  the  older  sis- 
ter threw  the  book  down  impatiently  and  scolded  the 
little  one.  Then  she  began  her  etude  again.  Her 
black  eyebrows  knitted  with  a  pained  expression;  she 
sat  there,  with  her  thin  neck  craned  far  forward,  while 
her  large  eyes  glanced  quickly  back  and  forth  from  the 
notes  to  the  keys.  The  little  girl  began  to  cry.  Her 
mother  put  away  the  dish  of  potatoes,  wiped  her  hands 
on  her  apron,  and,  taking  the  child  on  her  lap,  sooth- 
ingly stroked  her  head.  At  the  same  time  the  octave 
passages  thundered  and  the  runs  of  triplets  pearled  from 
the  fingers  of  the  elder  sister.  Suddenly  she  stopped, 
staggered  up  from  her  chair,  and,  reaching  out  for 
some  support,  steadied  herself  on  the  upper  edge  of  the 
piano.  A  harsh  hollow  cough  shook  her  feeble  frame. 
Her  mother  ran  to  her  assistance  and  at  that  moment 
the  little  one,  catching  sight  of  the  watcher  at  the 
window,  hurried  to  let  down  the  shade. 

With  a  deep  sigh  Florian  passed  on.     His  good  heart 


172  Florian  Mayr 

was  always  easily  moved  to  sympathy  and  even  in  his 
short  life  he  had  had  many  opportunities  to  become  ac- 
quainted with  the  misery  of  the  lowly,  whose  forlorn 
lives  contrast  so  cruelly  with  their  lofty  ideals.  Never 
had  he  turned  his  back  upon  such  suffering  with  a 
mere  pitying  shrug  or  a  few  cheap  phrases;  he  had 
always  made  it  a  personal  matter  and  felt  that  he  him- 
self was  that  neighbor,  in  the  Christian  sense,  whose 
first  duty  it  was  to  render  assistance.  At  the  pre- 
paratory school  and  later  at  the  university,  where  under 
conditions  of  great  privation  he  had  studied  medicine, 
and  even  more  since  he  had  begun  his  career  as  a 
musician,  he  had  again  and  again  shared  with  those 
poorer  than  himself  what  he  had  earned  with  bitter 
effort,  although  he  had  often  reaped  ingratitude  and 
wasted  his  sympathies  upon  the  unworthy.  He  had  a 
positive  passion  for  ferreting  out  misery  and  wretched- 
ness of  every  kind  among  people  who  in  any  way  ap- 
pealed to  his  inner  nature  and,  if  they  were  unwilling  to 
avail  themselves  of  his  advice  and  aid,  he  was  apt  to 
grow  sad  and  finally  to  become  absolutely  ruthless  in 
pressing  his  assistance  upon  them.  What  he  had  just 
seen  through  the  window  touched  his  heart  powerfully ; 
his  cheerful  humor  was  spoiled  for  the  evening  and  as  he 
sat  with  his  beer  in  a  cheap  restaurant  and  ate  his 
sausage,  he  was  all  the  while  turning  over  in  his  mind 
how  he  could  most  delicately  approach  the  poor  Polish 
family  and  perhaps  aid  them  in  some  way. 

When  he  went  home  about  half  past  eight  to  write 
the  letter  to  his  father,  which  it  was  important  to  get 
off  that  evening,  the  two  Polish  sisters  were  just  coming 
out  of  the  door.  The  elder  was  clad  in  a  gray  water- 
proof, which  was  too  large  for  her  and  reached  down  to 


The  Guileless  Fool  173 

her  feet;  on  her  head  she  wore  a  cheap  brown  straw 
hat,  trimmed  in  shocking  taste.  The  little  one  clung 
to  her  arm  and  for  protection  against  the  cool  of  the 
evening  had  wrapped  herself  in  an  old  woolen  shawl. 

The  two  girls  shrank  back  startled  and  remained 
standing,  helpless  and  frightened,  as  Florian  took  off 
his  hat  and  spoke  to  them.  He  politely  asked  pardon 
for  looking  in  at  their  window;  he  certainly  had  not 
meant  to  be  rude  but  he  had  heard  her  practicing 
Liszt's  etude  with  so  much  earnestness  and  skill  that  he 
had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  his  neighbor  must  be  a 
professional  colleague.  He  hoped  they  would  not  take 
offense  at  his  curiosity. 

The  older  girl  looked  away  in  hopeless  confusion 
and  did  not  know  what  to  reply.  Her  lips  moved  but  no 
articulate  word  escaped  them.  She  dropped  an  awk- 
ward little  curtsey  and  walked  quickly  away  with  her 
little  sister,  who  had  been  tugging  at  her  skirts. 

They  probably  don't  understand  German,  thought 
Florian  and,  after  considering  a  moment,  he  overtook 
the  two  girls  in  a  few  great  strides.  "  Excuse  me, 
ladies,"  he  cried  with  a  kindly  smile,  "  Perhaps  you 
don't  understand  German.  Popolski,  is  that  it  ?  " 

The  little  one  giggled  and  pressed  her  head  against 
her  sister's  arm.  But  the  latter,  more  alarmed  than 
ever,  redoubled  her  pace  and,  without  looking  at  Florian, 
exclaimed  hurriedly :  "  We  don't  dare." 

And  the  little  one  eagerly  hastened  to  corroborate: 
"  No,  we  don't  dare,  mamma  forbids  it." 

"  Good  heavens,  what  makes  you  run  so  ? "  cried 
Florian,  much  amused,  as  he  lengthened  his  great  stride. 
"  What  is  it  you  don't  dare  ?  Do  I  look  like  a  thief 
and  a  murderer  that  you  race  off  this  way?  I  don't 


174  Florian  Mayr 

eat  little  children.  What  do  you  want  to  be  running 
around  for  at  night  anyhow  ?  Won't  you  let  me  go 
with  you  a  little  way,  ladies  ?  "  Still  there  was  no 
answer  and  as  the  girls  ran  on  faster  and  faster  he  be- 
gan to  be  irritated.  "Well  now,  look  here  —  no  of- 
fense —  but  we  are  colleagues  and,  so  to  speak,  neigh- 
bors; it  seems  to  me  we  might  at  least  introduce  our- 
selves and  answer  when  we're  spoken  to.  My  name  is 
Mayr:  M-a-y-r,  at  your  service  and  my  first  name  is 
Florian.  What's  your  name,  little  one  ?  " 

"  Olga  Mikulska,"  replied  the  child  promptly,  "  and 
sister's  name  is  Helena." 

"  Well,  that's  something  at  all  events,"  said  Florian 
with  a  laugh,  "  but  now  tell  me,  Fraulein  Mikulska  — " 

Fraulein  Mikulska  paid  no  heed.  She  scolded  her 
little  sister  in  Polish  and  then,  turning  angrily  to  him, 
she  said :  "  We  are  not  allowed  to  talk  with  gentlemen ; 
mother  has  forbidden  it." 

"  Oh,  nonsense,  your  mother  is  a  — "  exclaimed 
Florian,  swallowing  the  "  goose  "  with  difficulty.  He 
let  the  two  girls  go  and  turned  back  in  a  bad  humor. 
As  he  passed  Frau  Mikulska's  door,  he  considered  for 
a  moment  whether  or  not  to  go  in  and  with  his  customary 
candor  to  tell  her  that  he  thought  she  was  a  goose.  But 
he  denied  himself  this  pleasure  for  the  present  and  re- 
solved to  give  these  Polish  females  a  little  more  time. 
Perhaps  by  and  by  they  would  discover  for  themselves 
how  a  respectable  and  well-meaning  young  man  should 
be  treated. 

The  next  day  Florian  was  for  the  first  time  included 
in  the  so-called  "  Swarm "  in  the  Hofgartnerei.  It 
was  Liszt's  custom  to  give  really  serious  instruction  only 
to  a  very  few  chosen  pupils  in  whom  he  thought  he  had 


The  Guileless  Fool  175 

discovered  some  genuine  musical  originality ;  these  came 
to  him  alone,  or  at  most  two  or  three  at  a  time,  generally 
in  the  early  morning  and  he  went  through  with  them 
the  pieces  they  happened  to  be  studying.  But  the 
great  horde  of  globe-trotting  folk  that  came  together 
here  from  all  parts  of  the  world  and,  under  the  pretext 
of  studying  advanced  piano  playing  or  just  out  of  gen- 
eral love  of  music,  sought  a  personal  meeting  with  the 
Master,  these  he  treated  in  wholesale  fashion.  From 
four  until  six  every  afternoon  all  the  artists  of  both 
sexes,  aristocratic  amateurs,  and  everybody  else  who 
on  any  pretext  whatsoever  had  procured  the  honor  were 
received  in  the  Hofgartnerei.  There  was  coffee,  tea, 
brandy,  cigars,  and  cigarettes  and,  first  and  foremost, 
the  most  animated  conversation  carried  on  in  many 
languages.  Unless  put  out  by  some  altogether  too  im- 
pertinent importunity  or  other  annoyance,  the  Master 
displayed  the  most  winsome  amiability  to  all,  even  to 
the  most  insignificant  creatures,  who  could  give  him  ab- 
solutely nothing  in  return.  His  mastery  of  languages, 
his  knowledge  of  the  world,  his  comprehensive  culture, 
his  lively  interest  in  all  serious  intellectual  effort,  en- 
abled him  to  converse  with  each  individual  in  the 
"  Swarm,"  and  he  almost  always  gave  more  than  he 
received.  Whenever  Liszt  began  to  speak  on  some  gen- 
eral theme,  to  relate  incidents  of  his  own  career,  to 
make  a  characteristic  description  of  some  celebrity  he 
had  known,  or  to  set  forth  his  own  observations  con- 
cerning an  important  work  of  art,  the  buzz  of  conversa- 
tion ceased  and  all  listened  reverently  to  the  aged 
Master.  Then  with  a  jocular  twist  in  conclusion  he 
would  restore  the  informal  gaiety  of  the  occasion. 
Florian  felt  terribly  strange  in  this  company.  These 


176  Florian  Mayr 

widely  traveled  people,  who  had  always  been  present  on 
the  spot  when  anything  had  been  going  on  in  the  world, 
who  knew  something  about  all  manner  of  interesting 
things  of  which  he  had  never  heard,  who  had  seen  so 
many  famous  men  and  talked  face  to  face  with  them, 
and  who  knew  how  to  converse  about  all  these  things 
so  entertainingly ;  especially  these  ladies  each  one  of 
whom  had  her  own  peculiar  charm,  be  it  beauty,  ele- 
gance, wit,  exuberant  spirits,  or  only  the  exotic  charm 
of  a  foreign  appearance  or  manner, —  all,  all  seemed 
to  him  like  rare  rich-plumaged  birds  from  distant  zones 
and  he  seemed  to  himself  nothing  but  a  dingy  little 
yellow-billed  sparrow,  ^o  wonder  that  the  aged 
Master,  who,  throughout  his  whole  life  from  his 
eleventh  year  on,  had  been  accustomed  to  the  admiration 
of  the  choicest  society  of  Europe,  took  pleasure  in  see- 
ing about  him  this  cheerful  company  of  admirers 
among  whom  new  and  interesting  people  were  con- 
stantly appearing,  and  in  spending  a  few  hours  every 
day  in  inspiring  gesthetic  conversation  and  the  graceful 
play  of  wit.  What  could  Florian,  the  poor  organist's 
son,  offer  to  this  great  man?  He  knew  well  that 
in  knowledge  of  the  world,  conversational  gifts,  and, 
indeed,  in  all  social  qualities  he  was  inferior  even 
to  the  youngest  and  most  superficial  of  these  dashing 
young  ladies.  Why  should  this  proud  autocrat  of  the 
realms  of  music  care  whether  Florian  Mayr  of  Bay- 
reuth,  this  tall,  lank,  awkward  youth,  learned  to  play 
the  piano  a  little  better  or  not?  His  courage,  which 
under  the  Master's  praise  had  waxed  mighty,  now  sank 
into  his  boots  again  and  the  conviction  forced  itself 
upon  him  that,  in  order  to  occupy  an  exceptional  posi- 
tion as  an  artist  and  to  lay  claim  to  special  honor  and 


The  Guileless  Fool  177 

fame,  it  was  not  enough  to  possess  high  abilities,  genuine 
feeling,  and  iron  industry,  but,  in  addition  to  all  that, 
it  was  necessary  to  have  versatility  and  cleverness  and 
a  fine  polish  of  the  mind  and  the  graceful  forms  of 
social  intercourse.  He  assumed  as  a  matter  of  course 
that  all  these  ladies  and  gentlemen  had  already  accom- 
plished more  in  music  than  he  had  and  he  was  extremely 
eager  to  hear  them  play  something. 

To  tell  the  truth,  his  mental  picture  of  a  lesson  from 
Liszt  had  been  something  quite  different.  More  than 
an  hour  had  already  passed  in  chatter,  coffee  drinking, 
and  in  listening  to  the  fascinating  stories  of  the  Master, 
and  no  one  had  yet  been  asked  to  play.  Now,  at  last ! 

Liszt  had  just  been  giving  a  most  entertaining  de- 
scription of  his  acquaintance  with  Hector  Berlioz,  when 
there  came  a  slight  pause:  a  tall,  buxom  lady,  who  had 
thus  far  taken  no  part  in  the  conversation  but  had 
shone  merely  by  reason  of  her  costly  apparel  and  much 
too  brilliant  jewels,  approached  the  Master  and,  lean- 
ing over  the  arm  of  his  easy-chair,  whispered  to  him: 
"Pardon  me,  Herr  Hofcapellmeister,  before  my  de- 
parture I  should  like  to  — " 

Liszt  had  to  smile  at  the  form  of  address,  "Herr 
Hofcapellmeister."  He  did  not  allow  the  lady  to  pro- 
ceed but,  rising  quickly,  he  seized  her  delicately  gloved 
hand  and  caressed  it  pleasantly  with  both  of  his :  "  Oh, 
fair  and  gracious  lady,  you  are  going  to  leave  us  ?  "  and 
his  glance  wandered  scrutinizingly  over  the  array  of 
jewels  which  seemed  to  have  been  disposed  like  glitter- 
ing lanterns  for  the  special  illumination  of  her  charms. 

ITlorian  stood  close  by  and  was  able  to  catch  every 
word  of  the  half  whispered  conversation. 

"  Yes,  I  am  only  passing  through  here,"  answered 


178  Florian  Mayr 

the  proud  beauty,  "  but  I  could  not  leave  Weimar  with- 
out taking  with  me  a  memento  of  the  great  hero  of 
tones  and  of  this  rarely  beautiful  hour." 

Florian  observed  the  look  of  pain  that  crossed  Liszt's 
features  at  the  sound  of  these  horrible  phrases  and  in- 
voluntarily his  own  face  contracted  similarly.  The 
lady  handed  the  Master  his  own  photograph,  cabinet 
size,  in  an  open  envelope  and  asked  for  his  signature. 

"  Pchah !  "  Irresolutely  Liszt  turned  the  picture 
round  and  round  and  involuntarily  drew  down  the  cor- 
ners of  his  mouth.  Autograph  collectors  were  always 
very  distasteful  to  him.  Then  he  turned  to  the  lady 
again  and  asked  with  frigid  politeness  with  whom  he 
had  the  pleasure  of  speaking. 

She  proved  to  be  the  wife  of  Lieutenant-Colonel 

von ,  Florian  did  not  catch  the  name.     And,  a  little 

piqued,  the  lady  added  that  in  the  course  of  the  last  two 
days  she  had  been  there  three  times  without  having  been 
admitted. 

"  I  receive  only  from  four  to  six,"  replied  Liszt 
briefly,  wherewith  he  turned  his  back  on  the  wife  of  the 
lieutenant-colonel  to  go  over  to  his  writing  table. 

With  a  single  step  the  lady  was  once  more  at  his  side 
and  detained  him  with  the  tip  of  her  fan :  "  Pardon 
me,  Abbe,  you  must  not  think  that  you  are  giving  your 
autograph  to  one  who  is  unworthy.  Might  I  be  per- 
mitted to  play  something  for  you  ?  It  would  be  of  the 
greatest  benefit  to  me  to  receive  your  authoritative  — " 

"  Oh,  I  beg  of  you !  "  said  Liszt  with  a  modest  depre- 
cating bow,  smiling  at  the  same  time  with  a  singularly 
roguish  expression,  "  You  are  an  artist,  also  ?  " 

The  fair  one  bent  her  head  affectedly  and  vouchsafed 
the  Master  a  brilliant  glance  from  her  dark  eyes. 


The  Guileless  Fool  179 

"  Anch'  io  sono  — "  she  giggled,  "  although  of  course 
in  my  case  it  is  not  a  matter  of  necessity.  My  father 
was  — "  and  she  mentioned  the  name  of  the  head  of  a 
large  well-known  banking  house. 

"  Bravo !  "  cried  Liszt,  greatly  amused.  "  I  cherish 
no  prejudices  of  any  kind."  And  with  a  gesture  of  in- 
vitation he  showed  her  to  the  piano. 

She  sat  down  without  the  slightest  trace  of  embar- 
rassment, removed  half  a  dozen  bracelets  from  her 
wrists,  and  pulled  the  fawn-colored  suede  gloves  from 
her  well-rounded  arms;  then  with  her  feet,  which  were 
encased  in  beaded  patent-leather  slippers,  she  felt 
for  the  pedals,  at  the  same  time  raising  the  hem  of  her 
silk  skirt  a  little,  swung  her  hands  to  test  the  joints,  and 
then  with  bold  assurance  ran  a  series  of  arpeggios 
through  half  a  dozen  keys.  All  these  preparations  re- 
quired a  goodly  space  of  time  and  considerably  height- 
ened the  expectations  of  the  audience.  Liszt  had  re- 
sumed his  place  in  his  easy-chair  and  was  making  an 
effort  to  look  serious. 

"  Would  Schubert's  Erl-Tcing  be  acceptable  ? "  asked 
the  lady  of  Lieutenant-Colonel  So-and-so,  nee  Xheimer, 
over  her  shoulder.  "  In  your  arrangement,  of  course." 

"  Very  kind,"  replied  Liszt,  smiling  most  politely 
and  with  the  gesture  of  acquiescence  of  a  grand  seig- 
neur. 

The  lady  had  forgotten  to  take  off  her  rings.  She 
now  removed  them  and  placed  them  side  by  side  upon 
the  rack, —  seven  in  all.  Then  at  last  she  attacked  the 
keyboard. 

Almost  immediately  a  general  suppressed  snickering 
and  whispering  became  audible ;  even  some  "  Ah's  "  and 
"  Oh's  "  of  surprise  and  indignation  were  heard.  All 


180  Florian  Mayr 

eyes  were  fastened  upon  the  Master.  With  a  quick 
nervous  movement  he  pushed  back  his  long  white  hair, 
wrinkled  his  brow  into  threatening  folds,  and  opened 
and  shut  his  wide  mouth  three  or  four  times  in  quick 
succession,  but  he  said  nothing ;  he  did  not  rise  to  stop 
this  "  artist  also  "  who  was  playing  the  Erl-Jcing  in  a 
tempo  which  indicated,  not  that  the  father  torn  with 
anguish  was  bearing  his  feverish  child  on  a  horse  rush- 
ing like  the  wind,  but  that  he  was  taking  him  to  the 
doctor  in  a  calm  indifferent  frame  of  mind  on  a  heavy 
truck  drawn  by  a  yoke  of  oxen.  Soulless  and  hard, 
these  inartistic  fingers  knocked  the  melody  out  of  the 
keys  and  the  passionate  rush  of  the  accompaniment  re- 
mained throughout  the  clumsy  rumbling  of  an  express 
wagon. 

And  that  the  Master  could  listen  to,  patiently  if  not 
calmly,  from  beginning  to  end !  Sunk  back  in  his  chair, 
his  lips  firmly  closed,  there  he  sat,  resentful  but  re- 
signed. The  entire  company,  helpless  and  amazed,  kept 
their  eyes  fixed  upon  him.  Shakings  of  the  head,  ex- 
cited whispers  behind  hands  and  fans  revealed  the  gen- 
eral disgust  ISTo  one  could  understand  how  the  Mas- 
ter was  able  to  restrain  himself  and  not  interfere  with 
a  stentorian  "  Donnerweiter !  " 

Florian  Mayr  stood  behind  Liszt's  chair,  fidgeting 
with  excitement;  rage  boiled  within  him  and  he  could 
not  suppress  certain  flattering  comments,  such  as :  "  Im- 
pudent hussy !  "  and  similar  epithets,  which  he  hissed 
through  his  teeth.  Liszt  heard  him  and  shook  his  pow- 
erful forefinger  warningly. 

At  last  "  the  child  was  dead."  The  lady  delicately 
touched  her  face  here  and  there  with  her  lace  handker- 
chief and  obviously  expected  applause.  No  sound  broke 


The  Guileless  Fool  181 

the  stillness.  In  the  suspense  of  the  moment  the  guests 
almost  held  their  breath ;  but  the  Master  said  nothing ; 
he  sat  in  his  chair  like  one  petrified.  The  Frau  Lieu- 
tenant-Colonel flushed  a  deep  red.  She  turned  slowly 
around  on  the  piano-stool  and,  when  she  caught  sight 
of  the  fixed  lowering  countenance  of  the  Master,  she 
sprang  up,  gathered  up  her  rings,  and  as  she  hastily 
put  them  on  said  in  a  voice  that  trembled  with  angry 
disappointment :  "  Pardon  me,  Abbe,  it  appears, —  it 
does  not  appear  to  give  you  any  pleasure  to  have  me 
play  for  you !  " 

Now  at  last  the  Master  roused  himself.  He  only 
shrugged  his  shoulders  and  said :  "  pchah !  "  with  un- 
mistakable contempt.  Then  he  walked  slowly  over  to 
this  living  picture  of  a  jewelry  establishment,  fastened 
his  eyes  upon  her  heaving  bosom,  and  forced  himself 
to  smile  politely :  "  Well,  my  dear  lady,  you  have  at 
all  events  a  very  —  different  conception  of  this  piece !  " 

He  looked  about  in  the  circle  of  his  pupils.  His 
face  had  grown  serious  and  stern  again.  His  glance 
fell  upon  Florian  Mayr,  who  stood  there  with  his  fists 
doubled  up,  obviously  restraining  himself  with  difficulty 
from  laying  violent  hands  on  the  fair  lady.  Liszt 
placed  his  hand  upon  Florian's  shoulder  and  said  to 
him :  "  Oh,  oh,  we  are  too  excited,  my  son !  But  tem- 
perament is  good.  Do  we  play  the  Erl-king!" 

"  Certainly,"  answered  Florian  promptly,  "  and  not 
badly  either,  I  think." 

Liszt  turned  to  the  great  lady  who,  still  breathing 
quickly,  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  and  said 
quietly :  "  Herr  Mayr  will  play  the  Erl-king  for  you, 
madam." 

This  time  Florian  felt  no  trace  of  nervousness.     The 


182  Florian  Mayr 

Erl-king  was  one  of  his  show  pieces  and  besides  — 
Donnerwetter,  this  person  and  all  the  rest  of  them,  too, 
for  that  matter,  had  better  be  taught  at  once  that  he 
also  had  some  kind  of  a  right  to  be  here  as  well  as  they ! 
He  shook  back  his  hair,  pulled  up  his  sleeves  a  little, 
as  if  he  were  preparing  for  a  boxing  match,  and  then 
dashed  in  at  a  furious  tempo,  a  wild  rush  that  blinded 
and  deafened.  Once  or  twice  he  struck  a  false  note,  a 
thing  which  the  Frau  Lieutenant-Colonel  had  not  done, 
but  that  did  not  matter  in  the  least.  The  passionate 
energy  of  the  rendering,  the  powerful  crescendi,  the 
highly  effective  color  contrasts  in  the  gentle  allurements 
of  the  fairy  spirit,  the  successful  differentiation  of  the 
voices  of  man  and  child  by  the  subtle  touch,  and  the 
deepening  of  terror  towards  the  end:  it  was  altogether 
a  splendid  triumph  and  everyone  present, —  not  ex- 
cepting his  professional  rivals, —  had  the  feeling  that 
this  intensely  dramatic  piece  of  music  had  been  rendered 
with  genuine  poetic  comprehension  and  that  the  per- 
former's conception  of  it  had  been  wrought  out  with 
the  sure  touch  of  the  genuine  artist. 

When  he  had  finished  he  sprang  up  and,  his  brown 
face  all  aglow  with  ardor,  he  turned  to  his  honored 
Master. 

Liszt  nodded  to  him  with  a  satisfied  smile ;  then,  go- 
ing up  to  him,  he  threw  his  left  arm  around  his  shoul- 
der and  patted  and  stroked  him,  while  with  an  anni- 
hilating look  he  measured  the  proud  lady  who  stood  op- 
posite, pale  with  shame  and  anger.  "  That  is  the  way 
we  play  the  piece,  pchah !  "  he  said  severely  in  a  loud 
voice.  Then,  turning  his  back  upon  her,  he  stroked 
Florian's  cheek  in  a  fatherly  way  and  said  softly: 
"  Very  well  done,  my  son." 


The  Guileless  Fool  183 

The  Frau  Lieutenant-Colonel  So-and-so  now  had  noth- 
ing better  to  do  than  to  beat  a  hasty  retreat.  She  must 
feel  that  morally  at  least  she  had  been  dismissed. 
Scarcely  had  she  gone  when  Liszt,  turning  to  the  as- 
sembled company  and  pointing  to  the  door  which  had 
just  closed  behind  the  chastened  lady,  exclaimed  angrily : 
"  Pchah !  They  think  that  we're  just  good  enough  for 
that  sort  of  thing !  " 

The  universal  condemnation  of  the  lady  now  found 
cruel  and  unsparing  utterance.  The  fine  joyous  mood 
was  dispelled  for  the  day.  Liszt  was  the  first  to  get 
the  better  of  his  bad  humor.  His  picture  which  the 
lady  had  handed  to  him  for  his  autograph  was  still  ly- 
ing on  the  little  table.  He  picked  it  up  and  said: 
"  Oho !  That  is  the  property  of  another.  I  must  not 
enrich  myself  by  unlawful  means.  Spiridion  must 
find  out  where  she  is  stopping.  I  will  write  something 
on  this  for  her  to  remember  me  by.  One  must  not 
cherish  a  grudge  long  where  handsome  women  are  con- 
cerned." On  the  back  of  the  photograph  he  wrote: 
"  Presto !  presto !  Addio !  Franz  Liszt." 

The  autograph  was  passed  around  and  created  much 
malicious  merriment.  The  conversation  became  gen- 
eral and  in  conclusion  two  of  the  younger  ladies  were 
permitted  to  play.  Their  performances  were  correct 
-and  in  good  taste,  although  in  no  way  distinguished. 
Each  was  rewarded  by  a  kindly  "  brava "  from  the 
Master  who,  seeing  Florian's  look  of  astonishment  and 
inquiry,  went  over  to  him  and  said  softly  with  an 
apologetic  shrug  of  the  shoulders :  "  What  do  you  ex- 
pect, my  son  ?  They  are  good  children,  they  follow  me 
around  everywhere,  and  really  take  no  end  of  pains; 
why  should  I  make  them  unhappy  ? " 


184  Florian  Mayr 

The  "  Swarm  "  gradually  departed  and  finally,  obedi- 
ent to  a  signal  from  the  Master,  Ilonka  Badacs  and 
Florian  Mayr  alone  remained.  The  Master  lighted  a 
cigar  and  bade  Florian  do  likewise.  Ilonka  knew 
where  the  cigarettes  were  for  the  ladies  and  she  smoked, 
too,  for  company.  Contentedly  puffing  at  his  excellent 
Havana,  Liszt  took  a  few  turns  up  and  down  the  room, 
muttering  to  himself:  "  That  was  a  stupid  affair;  but 
now  let's  cheer  up,  pchah,  basta!"  He  stopped  in 
front  of  the  pair,  his  hands  behind  his  back,  and  re- 
garded them  both  thoughtfully;  first  her,  then  him. 
Then  he  took  them  by  the  arm,  Ilonka  at  his  right, 
Florian  at  his  left,  and  began  to  walk  up  and  down 
with  them. 

"  You  know  each  other,  you  two.  I  have  heard, — 
know  all  about  it,  ha,  ha !  I  have  an  idea  in  my  head 
for  you  people:  you  have  got  to  —  hm  —  supplement 
each  other ! "  He  chuckled  with  satisfaction  and 
patted  their  hands. 

"  Kissazonyi  Badacs  Ilonka,  galambom,  is  a  little 
devil.  Sometimes  the  hell  fire  comes  out  of  her  at 
every  pore ;  now  that's  when  our  St.  Florian  must  pour 
on  a  little  cold  water.  Ha,  ha.  And  my  little  dove, 
my  Satanic  little  bird,  she  must  warm  St.  Florian  up 
a  bit,  so  as  to  make  him  a  little  more  human.  Have 
you  grasped  that  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Master,  understand  perfectly,"  cried  Ilonka 
with  flashing  eyes  and,  opening  her  arms  wide,  she 
balanced  herself  on  tiptoe  as  if  she  wanted  to  be  kissed. 

But  the  Master  waved  her  away  with  a  smile.  "  No, 
no,  not  to-day;  earn  it  first!  I  want  to  see  if  you  can 
really  do  St.  Florian  any  good."  Then,  turning  to  him 
and  taking  him  by  the  hand,  he  said :  "  If  it  would 


The  Guileless  Fool  185 

give  you  any  pleasure,  my  dear  boy,  you  may  come  to 
me  every  morning  at  eight  o'clock  and  help  me  at  my 
work." 

Florian  wanted  to  shout  for  joy  at  this  distinguished 
honor;  he  quickly  seized  the  kind  hand  of  the  revered 
Master  and  kissed  it  Therewith  they  were  both  dis- 
missed for  the  day.  They  took  a  walk  together  in  the 
park.  Florian  was  beside  himself  with  joy  and  pride. 
Everybody  had  congratulated  him  to-day,  these  cul- 
tured and  eminent  persons  who  seemed  so  superior  to 
him  that  he  would  not  for  a  moment  have  dared  to 
compare  himself  with  them.  And  now  he  had  every 
reason  to  consider  himself  singled  out  from  all  the  rest, 
for  neither  the  mysterious  pretender  to  the  throne  of 
Roumania  nor  the  Muscovite  Boyar  nor  any  other  of  the 
whole  distinguished,  brilliant,  and  virtuous  company 
that  he  had  met  yesterday  had  ever  been  asked  to  help 
the  Master  at  his  work.  He  rolled  in  the  grass,  stood 
on  his  head,  and  turned  cart-wheels  in  a  transport  of 
joy ;  no  one  happened  to  be  near  just  then ;  and  Ilonka 
laughed  unrestrainedly  at  his  mad  capers  and  in  a  tone 
of  profound  conviction  declared  that  he  was  "  awful 
dear  crazy  fellow."  They  agreed  that  he  should  go 
to  her  for  an  hour  every  evening.  First  of  all  she 
wanted  to  go  through  her  entire  concert  repertoire  with 
him  carefully  before  beginning  to  practice  any  new 
works. 

They  had  almost  reached  the  town  again  when  Ilonka 
with  droll  bashfulness  asked  what  he  was  going  to 
charge  her  for  instruction. 

And  Florian  to  tease  her  a  little  drew  a  serious  face 
and  said :  "  Well,  I  do  just  as  famous  physicians  do : 
I  charge  according  to  the  ability  of  the  patient  to  pay. 


186  Florian  Mayr 

In  Berlin  I  got  ten  marks  from  the  commonest  kind 
of  banker's  daughters.  Would  you  think  any  less  of 
me  if  I  only  asked  you  ten  marks  ? " 

"  Ten  marks !  "  she  broke  in,  horrified,  "  What  are 
you  thinking,  my  dear  friend  ?  Do  you  want  to  make 
pauper  of  me  ?  " 

"  A  great  lady  like  you,  my  dear  Fraulein  Badacs  1 
You  must  be  fairly  rolling  in  wealth ;  you  must  make 
your  curlpapers  out  of  banknotes." 

"  Oh,  my  good  gracious,  what  awful  man  you  are !  I 
am  poor  as  a  gypsy;  one  day  I  have  little  something, 
next  day  I  have  not  a  cent.  Luck,  that's  all  I  got: 
soon  as  I  am  down  to  nothing  then  comes  something." 

"Where  from?" 

"  Oh,  lots  of  ways ;  some  comes  from  this  one,  some 
from  that, —  concerts,  I  mean,  of  course." 

Florian  looked  at  her  askance  in  some  embarrassment 
and  inquired  a  little  hesitatingly :  "  But  aren't  your 
parents  rich?  You  must  come  of  a  very  aristocratic 
family." 

"Who,  I?"  cried  Ilonka  hilariously.  "I  tell  you: 
my  mother  was  little  ballet  girl  in  grand  opera  at 
Budapest.  My  father, —  now,  look  here,  dear  friend, 
that's  all  very  uncertain.  Possible  he  was  gypsy  chief, 
possible  he  was  count.  Mother  says  it  was  count,  but 
I  think  gypsy  chief  because  I  got  musical  talent.  But 
count  paid  and  that's  principal  thing.  He  was  dear 
fellow,  the  count,  gave  me  very  good  education,  first 
in  Convent  of  the  Sacred  Heart  and  then  at  Vienna 
conservatory." 

"  Hm !  "  murmured  Florian  meditatively,  still  shyly 
glancing  at  her  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye,  "  I  think 
you  have  something  very  aristocratic  about  you." 


The  Guileless  Fool  187 

"  Well,  dear  friend,  that's  just  as  God  will,  possible 
it  was  all  two  of  them."  And  she  laughed  merrily  in 
his  face  so  that  all  her  splendid  white  teeth  showed. 

Florian  laughed  bashfully  and,  turning  quite  red, 
stammered:  "Do  you  know, —  I  —  I've  got  to  tell 
you, —  I  think  you're  awfully  nice." 

"  Do  you  ?  "  she  cried,  clapping  her  hands  in  delight. 
She  looked  around  hurriedly  and  then  suddenly  rais- 
ing herself  on  tiptoe,  she  drew  his  face  down  to  hers 
and  gave  him  a  quick  hearty  kiss. 

The  good  Florian  was  quite  frightened  and  looked 
anxiously  about.  No,  it  was  not  probable  that  anyone 
had  seen  them.  He  drew  a  deep  breath  of  relief  and, 
taking  her  hand,  squeezed  it  hard.  "  Thank  you  very 
much,"  he  said. 

She  snuggled  up  to  him  teasingly  and  said,  laughing : 
"IsTow,  I've  paid  a  little  in  advance,  haven't  I  ? " 

"  Wouldn't  you  like  to  pay  me  in  that  coin  always  ?  " 
asked  Florian  in  a  low  voice,  bashfully  bending  over 
her. 

She  gave  him  a  loving  look  and  several  quick  nods  of 
assent.  But  the  streets  were  growing  more  animated, 
so  with  becoming  propriety  he  escorted  her  to  the  door 
of  her  hotel. 


CHAPTEK  X 
An  Indiscretion*' 

IT  was  a  rich  and  blessed  springtime  for  our  Florian. 
Every  day  that  he  was  privileged  to  live  in  the  tiny 
city  of  the  Muses,  within  the  magic  circle  of  the  mighty 
genius,  afforded  him  as  much  nourishment  for  heart 
and  soul,  as  much  encouragement  for  his  artistic  ideals, 
as  months  and  years  in  other  places.  He  enjoyed  most 
of  all  the  morning  hours  which  he  usually  spent  quite 
alone  with  Liszt. 

With  wonder  and  admiration  he  came  to  realize  the 
aged  Master's  extraordinary  capacity  for  work,  his  in- 
defatigable faithfulness  to  duty  and  the  wonderful 
freshness  of  his  mind.  When  Elorian  presented  him- 
self at  eight  o'clock,  Liszt  had  already  been  up  at  least 
three  hours.  Sometimes  he  rose  even  as  early  as  four. 
Then  he  went  to  early  mass,  read  his  breviary,  and  in 
the  profound  serenity  of  the  springtime  morning 
plunged  himself  in  thoughts  of  the  work  which  hap- 
pened to  occupy  him  at  the  time.  After  breakfast  he 
perused  the  morning's  mail,  and,  by  the  time  Florian 
arrived,  he  had  gone  through  pretty  thoroughly  the 
respectable  bundle  which  the  postman  brought  him. 
The  secretary  was  given  a  number  of  letters  to  attend  to, 
while  those  of  a  more  intimate  character  he  retained  to 
answer  himself.  Florian's  duties  consisted  for  the  most 
part  in  helping  to  examine  the  musical  compositions, 
published  as  well  as  in  manuscript,  which  arrived  daily 

188 


An  Indiscretion  189 

in  goodly  numbers,  and  to  write  the  senders  concerning 
them. 

Liszt  considered  it  a  duty  which  his  position  as  fore- 
most pianoforte  virtuoso  of  the  time,  and  particularly 
as  champion  of  the  modern  tendency  in  music,  imposed 
upon  him,  to  examine  conscientiously  everything  that 
was  sent  him,  and  he  devoted  several  hours  each  day  to 
this  by  no  means  easy  task.  Upon  superficial  material 
of  the  popular  sort  that  was  only  the  product  of  a  me- 
chanical facility  he  naturally  wasted  but  little  time. 
Stuff  of  this  kind  was  disposed  of  with  a  joke  and  rele- 
gated to  its  proper  category.  But  the  moment  the  Mas- 
ter, during  the  first  cursory  inspection  of  a  manuscript, 
was  able  to  discover  even  the  slightest  proof  of  origin- 
ality, of  sincere  striving  after  new  forms  of  expression, 
or  a  firm  command  of  the  established  forms  of  art,  he 
lingered,  and  set  himself  to  examine  carefully.  At 
such  times  he  would  sit  down  at  the  piano  himself  and 
play  off  the  often  extremely  illegible  and  most  intricate 
scores  as  easily  as  if  they  were  clearly  printed  notes. 
It  often  happened  that  he  requested  Florian  to  play 
a  manuscript  of  this  kind  with  him  four-handed.  At 
first  the  young  man  found  this  extremely  difficult  and 
he  considered  himself  fortunate  if  he  only  got  the  bass 
right  and  brought  out  the  more  important  parts.  But 
under  the  Master's  instruction  he  learned  rapidly  and 
much. 

After  Florian  was  dismissed,  Liszt  worked  for  sev- 
eral hours  alone,  until  eleven  or  twelve  o'clock.  Then 
he  made  or  received  visits,  and  after  that  lunched, 
usually  at  the  home  of  one  of  his  older  women  friends 
or  at  the  Grand-Ducal  palace,  but  less  often  alone. 
When  he  ate  at  home  someone  or  other  of  his  more 


190  Florian  Mayr 

favored  pupils  was  invited  to  keep  him  company,  which 
was  also  the  case  during  the  walks  which  Liszt  was  ac- 
customed to  take  towards  evening,  after  the  "  Swarm  " 
had  dispersed.  The  rather  frequent  soirees  which  the 
Master  gave  bore  more  the  character  of  formal  concerts. 
To  these  many  laymen  were  invited,  particularly  mem- 
bers of  the  Court  circle.  The  Grand  Duke  himself  was 
almost  a  regular  guest  at  these  functions,  as  well  as  his 
daughters,  the  Princess  Reuss  and  the  Princess  Eliza- 
beth, both  at  that  time  unmarried.  Upon  those  even- 
ings when  Liszt  neither  went  out  nor  himself  enter- 
tained, he  spent  the  time  composing  or  reading.  He 
retired  at  eleven,  sometimes  even  later. 

Florian  was  happiest  whenever,  in  the  glorious  morn- 
ing hours,  he  succeeded  in  turning  the  conversation  upon 
Liszt's  own  compositions  and  the  Master  consented  to 
play  them  through  with  him  at  the  piano.  The  great 
choral  and  orchestral  works  of  Franz  Liszt  were  in 
those  days  far  more  than  now  aliens  in  the  musical 
world,  and  were  regarded  with  jealous  suspicion.  The 
marvelous  plastic  genius  and  dramatic  vigor  of  Richard 
Wagner  had  long  ago  silenced  the  hue  and  cry  of  the 
musical  dryasdusts  and  completely  carried  away  the 
greater  part  of  the  public.  The  "  Art  of  the  Future  " 
had  already  actually  become  the  ideal  of  the  present, 
and  yet  Liszt,  in  the  production  of  his  symphonic  poems 
and  great  choral  works,  though  they  were  born  of  the 
same  spirit  as  Wagner's  music-dramas,  had,  in  the  year 
1880,  to  contend  against  the  timidity  of  concert-direc- 
tors, the  malice  of  the  critical  clique  and  lack  of  under- 
standing on  the  part  of  the  public,  just  as  Wagner  had 
to  do  till  well  into  the  seventies.  It  was  perhaps  the 
only  sorrow  that  saddened  the  twilight  of  the  life  of  the 


An  Indiscretion  191 

happiest  artist  of  the  century,  the  one  bitter  experience 
that  from  time  to  time  filled  even  that  great,  good,  for- 
giving heart  with  agonizing  resentment.  Unselfishly  he 
had  stood  aside  when  the  ruthless,  virile  genius  of  Wag- 
ner demanded  a  free  road  for  its  development.  He  had 
helped  with  all  his  powers  to  even  the  way  of  him  whom 
he  himself  recognized  as  the  greater.  He  had  made 
known  and  elucidated  Wagner's  works  with  voice  and 
pen,  and  by  means  of  his  own  money  and  indefatiga- 
ble efforts  he  had  kept  above  water  the  exile  struggling 
with  want. 

~Now  the  other  had  gone  forth  a  glorious  victor,  while 
he  himself,  who  through  his  own  works  had  been  the 
predecessor  and  the  champion  of  the  Titan  of  Bayreuth, 
was  still  looked  upon  by  the  generality  of  men  only  as 
the  greatest  pianist  of  the  century,  but  not  as  a  com- 
poser of  the  utmost  originality  as  well, —  not  as  the  pow- 
erful neo-musician  and  pathfinder.  Therefore  as  soon 
as  he  found  that  this  simple  Florian  Mayr  knelt  in 
touching  veneration  at  the  feet  not  only  of  the  piano 
hero  but  still  more  reverently  before  the  composer,  the 
sympathy  that  he  had  felt  with  the  unassuming  young 
man  grew  into  a  sincere  paternal  affection,  which  found 
its  nourishment  in  the  hope  of  educating  Florian  to  be- 
come an  intelligent  interpreter  of  his  great  misunder- 
stood works,  a  faithful  guardian  of  his  spiritual  herit- 
age. And  thus,  during  these  fruitful  morning  hours, 
there  developed  in  the  son  of  the  Bayreuth  organist  a 
genuine  Liszt  conductor. 

And  Liszt  very  soon  discovered  one  more  extremely 
valuable  characteristic  in  his  pupil,  his  wrathful  impa- 
tience of  intrusive  parasites,  the  crowd,  actuated  only 
by  curiosity,  that  sought  on  all  occasions  to  invade  the 


192  Florian  Mayr 

Master's  privacy.  As  a  scare-crow,  as  an  inexorably 
stem  Cerberus,  and,  if  necessary,  an  efficient  "  chucker- 
out,"  nobody  could  be  better  than  Florian  Mayr.  With 
his  exaggerated  good-nature  Liszt  was  completely  de- 
fenseless against  energetic  attacks.  He  even  allowed 
himself  to  be  bullied  into  friendship  and  the  intimate 
use  of  "  thee  "  and  "  thou  "  by  several  absolutely  in- 
significant persons  who  had  at  some  time  or  other  done 
him  a  service  and  now  made  capital  out  of  his  gratitude. 
Here  Florian  proved  to  be  a  perfect  jewel.  He  showed 
no  consideration,  either  for  the  fair  sex  or  for  name  or 
station,  and  he  carried  out  the  most  unpleasant  com- 
missions with  genuine  delight  Neither  by  flattery  nor 
angry  looks  nor  sharp  words  could  he  be  moved  to  in- 
dulgence towards  people  from  whom  the  Master  wished 
to  be  spared.  It  was,  therefore,  perfectly  natural  that 
he  soon  became  known  in  Weimar  as  the  Master's  latest 
favorite,  and  made  on  that  account  almost  as  many 
jealous  enemies  as  he  had  colleagues.  Nevertheless 
people  took  good  care  not  to  quarrel  with  him,  for  if 
he  were  actuated  by  the  spirit  of  revenge,  he  might 
do  them  a  very  bad  turn.  They  preferred,  therefore, 
to  flatter  him  to  his  face,  and  make  sport  of  him  behind 
his  back ;  whenever  one  of  them  had  a  favor  to  ask  of 
the  Master  he  seldom  omitted  to  bespeak  Herr  Mayr's 
good  offices.  But  Florian  harshly  rejected  all  ad- 
vances even  of  the  most  harmless  nature,  and  he  could 
not  be  bribed  even  by  the  seductive  glances  of  fair 
ladies.  The  only  feminine  being  for  whom  he  had 
promptly  put  in  a  good  word  was  his  neighbor,  Helena 
Mikulska,  although  he  stood  on  no  more  intimate  foot- 
ing with  her  than  on  the  first  day,  in  spite  of  the  most 
friendly  advances  on  his  part  No  matter  how  often 


An  Indiscretion  193 

he  spoke  to  her,  he  never  received  any  other  answer  than 
the  same  silly,  stupid,  "  Mother  will  not  permit."  Once 
or  twice  he  had  met  the  mother  herself  in  the  corridor 
but  she  was  even  worse  than  her  daughter.  She  had 
stared  at  him  with  a  horrified  expression,  as  though  he 
had  demanded  her  money  or  her  life,  and  had  run  away 
with  the  most  ridiculous  haste.  He  learned  from  his 
landlady  that  this  singular  woman  understood  almost 
no  German  and  was  possessed  of  an  almost  childish  fear 
of  thieves,  murderers,  and  ghosts.  As  for  the  rest,  she 
was  still  a  young  woman,  scarcely  over  thirty,  hut  her 
helpless  and  forsaken  condition  and  her  dire  need  stared 
from  her  sunken  eyes  and  gave  her  faded  cheeks  their 
chalky  paleness.  It  was  of  no  avail  that  Florian  again 
and  again  called  himself  a  fool  and  wished  these  "  stupid 
women-folks "  to  the  devil.  Their  heart-breaking 
misery  went  to  his  sympathetic  heart  day  by  day  and 
left  him  no  peace.  On  this  account  he  told  Liszt  about 
the  young  girl's  extraordinary  industry  and  uncom- 
mon talent  and  asked  permission  for  her  to  play  to  him, 
so  that  she  might,  when  once  provided  with  the  powerful 
recommendation  of  Franz  Liszt,  earn  her  living  some- 
where. The  Master  requested  him  to  bring  the  girl 
with  him  on  the  very  next  morning,  and  promised  to 
do  all  he  could  for  her. 

Full  of  delight  Florian  hurried  home  and  knocked 
without  ceremony  on  the  Mikulskas'  door.  There  was 
no  "  Come  in  "  in  answer  to  his  knock  but  he  heard  an 
exciting  whispering  after  the  sudden  interruption  of 
the  piano-playing,  and  then  steps  approached  the  door 
on  tiptoe.  Probably  somebody  was  trying  to  look 
through  the  keyhole.  Then  he  knocked  lightly  again, 
opened  the  door  at  once  and  entered  the  room.  Eight 


194  Florian  Mayr 

enough,  little  Olga  sprang  to  one  side  in  a  fright. 
The  mother  stood  with  the  elder  daughter  at  the  piano 
and  both  received  the  intruder  with  a  low  exclamation. 

With  a  good-natured  laugh  Florian  greeted  them, 
"  How  do  you  do,  ladies  ?  Now  don't  get  frightened ! 
It's  only  me,  and  I  bring  you  some  very  good  news! 
I  suppose  you  will  allow  me  to  sit  down  a  bit  ?  "  And 
without  waiting  for  the  formal  permission,  he  seated 
himself  in  the  nearest  chair,  nodded  pleasantly  to 
the  elder  sister  and  said  gaily,  "  Now  Fraulein 
Helena,  just  listen  to  me.  To-morrow  morning  at  eight 
o'clock  you  are  to  go  to  Master  Liszt  and  play  some- 
thing for  him.  He  will  do  something  for  you  so  that 
you  can  get  out  of  your  present  wretehed  situation. 
Well  what  do  you  say  now  ?  The  same  old  thing  again, 
4  Mother  will  not  allow?'" 

Helena  turned  red  and  deathly  pale  by  turns  and 
then  the  two  girls  talked  Polish  with  their  mother  with 
great  volubility.  That  took  some  time  but  Florian  let 
them  chatter  on  and  contented  himself  with  carefully 
watching  their  gestures.  Little  Olga  was  apparently 
the  only  one  who  was  delighted  with  the  good  news,  and 
eagerly  tried  to  persuade  the  other  two  to  take  advan- 
tage of  the  opportunity,  while  the  mother  and  Helena 
had  nothing  but  objections  and  complaints.  But  at 
last,  as  nobody  seemed  to  want  to  make  him  any  answer 
at  all,  Florian  became  impatient.  He  took  the  little 
girl  by  the  hand,  drew  her  to  him,  and  said,  "  Come  here, 
child,  you  seem  to  be  after  all  the  most  sensible  of  the 
lot.  Just  tell  me  what  it  all  means  anyhow!  Isn't 
your  sister  pleased  about  it  at  all  ? " 

11  Oh,  yes,  sister  is  glad  —  Why,  we  only  came  here 
to  play  to  Liszt,  but  we  have  nothing  to  wear !  " 


An  Indiscretion  195 

"  Oh,  if  you  think  the  Master  cares  more  about  your 
clothes  than  he  does  how  you  play,  you're  mightily  mis- 
taken." 

Olga  interpreted  to  her  mother  in  Polish  what 
Florian  had  said,  and  thereupon  ensued  a  new  and 
agitated  chapter  of  lamentations  between  Helena  and 
her  mother.  The  excited  girl  stood  before  Florian, 
blushing  with  shame,  and  passed  her  hand  over  her 
emaciated  form,  which  was  clad  only  in  an  old  brown 
woolen  underskirt  and  a  red  striped  cotton  blouse. 

"  There,  look  please,  Herr  Mayr,"  she  said.  "  That's 
fine,  isn't  it?  Mother  has  the  best  gown  on;  it  does 
for  us  both.  The  one  who  goes  out  puts  on  the  best 
gown  with  the  water-proof.  The  water-proof  belongs 
to  both  also."  Little  Olga  interrupted  angrily  and, 
crying  out  something  in  a  shrill  voice,  ran  to  the  clothes- 
press  and  pulled  out  all  the  little  stock  of  finery  that 
was  there.  She  threw  the  stuff  on  the  table,  and  then 
all  three  went  at  it,  pulling  over  skirts,  waists,  and 
blouses  and  spreading  them  out  before  Florian,  at  the 
same  time  calling  his  attention  to  their  general  shab- 
biness  and  the  many  patches,  screaming  all  the  while 
such  a  mixture  of  Polish  and  German  that  it  was  hardly 
possible  to  understand  a  word.  Olga  praised  with 
great  eagerness  a  white  dress  which  seemed  to  be  still 
in  fair  condition,  but  Helena  declared  that  it  would 
hardly  reach  below  her  knees,  and  she  threw  it  angrily 
into  the  excited  little  one's  face. 

Florian  was  quite  in  despair  over  these  "  aggravating 
females,"  and  at  last  he  yelled  out,  "  Great  heavens  and 
earth,  go  in  your  chemise  and  water-proof,  if  you  want 
to !  All  such  miserable  matters  are  of  no  account  what- 
ever!" 


196  Florian  Mayr 

And  as  the  three  set  up  another  loud  wail  he  added, 
"  All  right,  then  we  will  wait  a  few  days  until  you've 
found  something  decent  to  put  on.  Meanwhile  I'll  ad- 
vance the  necessary  money  if  you  haven't  got  it  your- 
selves. The  great  thing  is  that  you  get  somewhere 
sometime.  You'll  practice  until  you  go  plumb  daft, 
and  anybody  can  see  a  mile  away  that  you're  starving 
yourselves." 

"  Oh,  we  don't  go  hungry  much,"  exclaimed  Olga. 
"  We  always  have  bread  and  milk  and  potatoes." 

"  But  Lord  bless  me,"  shouted  Florian,  "  you  can't 
nourish  your  nerves  with  that  sort  of  thing !  And  you 
use  up  more  nerves  in  a  month  in  the  insane  way  you 
practice  than  anybody  else  in  a  whole  year !  What  are 
you  waiting  for  ?  Or  have  you  capital  enough  to  keep 
you  until  Fraulein  Helena  can  be  thrown  at  the  public 
as  a  virtuoso  ?  Don't  you  imagine  that  you  can  make 
a  fortune  as  easy  as  turning  your  hand  over.  You'll 
kill  yourself  before  that  anyhow,  stuffing  yourself  with 
potatoes  and  ruining  your  nerves.  And  if  you  do  get 
as  far  as  giving  concerts,  do  you  think  for  a  moment 
that  the  public  will  fight  for  the  tickets  just  to  see  a 
poor  miserable  little  chicken  in  an  old  dress  with  noth- 
ing behind  and  nothing  in  front  ?  " 

Helena  listened  with  wide  opened  eyes  and  face  dis- 
torted with  grief,  and  translated  breathlessly  to  her 
mother  the  sense  of  his  words.  All  at  once  the  two 
women  began  to  cry,  sobbing  in  each  other's  arms  as  if 
their  hearts  would  break.  Florian  was  sorry  that  he 
had  told  them  the  truth  so  plainly  and  brutally.  He 
went  over  and  began  to  console  them,  but  they  fled  from 
him  into  the  farthest  corner  of  the  room.  He  gave  it 
up  with  a  sigh,  stroked  the  little  girl's  glossy  brown  hair 


An  Indiscretion  197 

as  he  went  by  and  whispered,  "  Little  one,  you're  sensi- 
ble, you  talk  to  them  and  bring  me  word  what's  to  be 
done.  You  shall  have  some  chocolate,  too !  "  With 
that  he  left  the  room. 

After  lunch  Florian  bought  a  few  pieces  of  chocolate 
and  all  kinds  of  sugar  cakes,  and,  as  he  passed  the  show- 
window  of  a  milliner's  establishment,  his  eye  fell  upon 
a  couple  of  pretty  children's  hats  which  pleased  him  so 
much  that  he  went  in  and  bought  one  of  them,  a  large, 
bright-colored  straw  hat,  prettily  trimmed  with  a  broad 
red  silk  ribbon.  Little  Olga  was  going  about  in  her 
shabby  old  felt  hat  with  its  dirty  crumpled  ribbon  and 
its  bristly  feathers.  He  enjoyed  in  anticipation  the 
big  eyes  that  the  child  would  make  when  she  saw  all 
this  magnificence  and  was  confident  that  the  elder  sis- 
ter would  also  learn  to  trust  him  and  accept  his  assist- 
ance. Near  the  door  of  his  house  he  ran  upon  the 
Englishmen  who  lived  over  him,  Mr.  Crookes,  with  his 
two  big  sons,  who,  although  they  were  already  nineteen 
and  seventeen  years,  wore  knickerbockers  and  ridicu- 
lously short  jackets,  which  at  that  time,  when  athletic 
sport  with  its  beneficial  influence  upon  male  dress  still 
led  a  very  modest  existence  in  Germany,  excited  a  great 
deal  of  notice.  Florian  had  not  as  yet  made  the  ac- 
quaintance of  the  Englishmen,  but  he  had  exchanged 
a  few  words  with  them  on  occasion,  so  that  he  might  at 
least  say  that  he  knew  them.  Like  all  Germans, 
Elorian  considered  every  Englishman  who  lived  abroad 
as  immensely  wealthy,  and  the  thought  struck  him  to 
exploit  this  Mr.  Crookes  for  the  Mikulskas'  benefit. 
After  several  preparatory  phrases,  he  invited  the  three 
to  accompany  him  to  his  room. 

The  Crookes,  who,  like  all  Englishmen  when  con- 


198  Florian  Mayr 

fronted  with  continental  politeness,  fell  into  an  almost 
helpless  stiffness,  accepted  this  invitation  wonderingly, 
and,  after  they  had  seated  themselves,  awaited  FLorian's 
next  step.  For  the  rest  they  understood  and  spoke 
German  very  well  for  Englishmen. 

Florian  began  by  asking  them  whether  he  might  not 
offer  them  a  glass  of  beer  and  this  invitation  was  re- 
fused by  father  Crookes  with  scarcely  concealed  in- 
dignation. Then  Florian  took  the  straw  hat  that  he 
had  just  bought  from  its  paper  wrapper,  showed  it  to 
his  guests  with  droll  satisfaction  and  asked  what  it 
was. 

"  Well,  that  is  the  hat  of  a  very  little  girl,"  answered 
Mr.  Crookes  with  perfect  equanimity,  while  the  two 
boys  grinned  bashfully. 

"  Correct;  but  where  is  the  little  girl  for  this  hat ? " 
continued  Florian  artfully,  and  as  he  received  no  an- 
swer to  this  question  save  a  shrug,  he  pointed  over  his 
shoulder  with  his  thumb  and  whispered  mysteriously, 
"  She  lives  over  there  and  her  name  is  Olga  Mikul- 
ska!" 

The  faces  of  the  two  boys  wore  a  queer  expression  and 
their  father  frowned  at  them  askance.  He  seemed 
actually  to  have  taken  for  granted  that  this  Florian 
Mayr  was  a  very  frivolous  young  fellow,  who  found  a 
peculiar  pleasure  in  initiating  everybody  he  met  into 
his  unscrupulous  schemes.  He  began  to  consider  how 
he  could  politely  retire  and  withdraw  his  innocent  boys 
from  this  dangerous  company. 

Florian  did  not  suspect  to  what  extraordinary  mis- 
interpretation he  had  exposed  himself,  but  went  on  to 
describe  in  plain  words  the  distress  and  misery  of  their 
neighbors  and  finished  by  inviting  his  guests  to  con- 


An  Indiscretion  199 

tribute  towards  procuring  the  most  necessary  articles  of 
clothing  for  the  young  pianist. 

A  pause  of  some  length  ensued.  The  close  of 
Florian's  speech  had  evidently  astonished  his  hearers. 
Curiously  enough  the  youngest  Master  Crookes  was  the 
first  to  speak.  He  turned  to  his  father  and  expressed 
his  most  emphatic  opinion  that  the  young  lady  in  ques- 
tion was  very  ugly. 

The  elder  brother  giggled  behind  his  hat  and  con- 
firmed this  opinion  with  an  emphatic,  "Yes,  indeed 
she  is!" 

"  Please  mind  your  own  business,  will  you  ?  "  snapped 
the  old  gentleman  at  his  two  big  boys.  Then  he 
took  his  chin  in  his  hand,  rubbed  it  reflectively,  tapped 
his  nose  with  his  fore-finger  and  by  dint  of  these  prepara- 
tions finally  found  himself  in  the  position  to  announce 
his  opinion  on  the  subject.  "I'll  tell  you,"  he  said, 
"  I  don't  like  Liszt,  I  don't  like  any  of  that  kind  of 
music;  I  like  Handel,  Bach,  Mendelssohn,  Schumann, 
and  Brahms  —  but  I  don't  like  Brahms  so  very  much." 

"  Very  good,  but,  my  dear  sir,  what  has  that  got  to 
do  with  it?  I  for  instance  love  Liszt  above  all  and 
everything  —  but,  surely,  you  wouldn't  let  me  drown 
if  you  happened  to  come  along  and  could  help  me  easily, 
would  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that's  quite  different,"  replied  Mr.  Crookes  un- 
moved. "  You  may  like  what  you  wish,  my  dear  sir, 
for  you  don't  want  my  money  for  yourself;  but  if  this 
young  girl  wants  my  money  for  herself,  then  she  must 
like  what  I  like." 

Florian  ran  his  fingers  through  his  hair  despairingly. 
"  But,  Mr.  Crookes,"  he  cried,  "  Damn  it,  man  —  I  beg 
your  pardon !  Let's  leave  music  out  of  the  question  and 


200  Florian  Mayr 

just  remember  that  there  are  here  three  respectable 
women  who  are  simply  starving.  They  are  living  on 
milk,  bread,  and  potatoes,  and  never  get  a  taste  of 
meat!" 

"  Oh,  that  is  very  wholesome,"  replied  Mr.  Crookes, 
wagging  his  head.  "  The  man  who  eats  parts  of  dead 
animals  nourishes  only  his  evil  instincts  and  is  not 
adapted  for  true  philosophy !  " 

Florian  was  barely  able  to  control  himself.  With 
the  greatest  effort  he  swallowed  an  oath  at  least  a  yard 
long,  and  said  with  a  nervous  laugh,  "  So  you  won't  do 
anything?  Well,  all  right.  I  have  only  to  thank  the 
gentlemen  for  listening  to  me  so  patiently.  As  a  dead- 
carcass-eating  Lisztite  I  must  be  in  your  eyes  an  object 
of  physical  and  moral  disgust !  " 

Mr.  Crookes  smiled  as  pleasantly  as  the  long  leathery 
wrinkled  character  of  his  face  allowed  and  remarked, 

"  Oh,  my  dear  sir,  you  are  not  lost  jet ;  it's  never  too 
late  to  mend,  we  say  in  English.  I'll  send  you  a  few 
pamphlets  and  I  hope  that  you  will  improve.  Further- 
more I  would  like  to  advise  you  regarding  that  young 
girl.  Follow  my  principle  never  to  interfere!  Good 
morning,  my  dear  sir,  I  am  very  glad  to  have  met  you !  " 
He  gave  Florian's  hand  a  vigorous  shake,  the  two  young 
gentlemen  silently  followed  his  example  and  then  all 
three  took  their  departure. 

For  a  few  seconds  Florian  stared  at  them  with  open 
mouth  and  then  broke  into  boisterous  laughter.  Sud- 
denly came  a  loud  knock  at  the  door  and  Mr.  Crookes 
senior  reentered  the  room.  Standing  on  the  threshold 
with  the  door-knob  in  his  hand  he  spoke  as  follows: 
"  Oh,  I  forgot  —  I'll  do  something  after  all !  I'll  ask 
the  spirits  whether  these  girls  will  really  starve  to 


An  Indiscretion  201 

death;  and  if  the  spirits  tell  me  that  these  girls  will 
really  starve  to  death,  then  I'll  give  them  something 
for  bread  and  milk."  With  a  nod  of  the  head  he 
backed  out  without  waiting  to  note  the  effect  of  his 
words. 

Florian  threw  himself  upon  his  lounge  and  kicked 
out  wildly  with  his  legs  to  give  vent  to  his  feelings.  He 
had  never  seen  such  lunacy  in  all  his  life  before. 

As  nothing  was  to  be  hoped  for  from  this  quarter  in 
the  furtherance  of  his  philanthropic  plans,  he  cast  about 
in  other  directions  for  assistance.  Suddenly  Ilonka 
Badacs  occurred  to  him.  Well,  that  he  had  not 
thought  of  her  in  the  first  place !  She  fairly  threw  her 
money  about,  and  she  had  a  good  heart  too!  The  re- 
lations between  them  just  at  this  time  were  extremely 
pleasant.  Florian's  instruction  was  a  source  of  great 
delight  to  both.  She  was  very  industrious  and  never 
took  his  sometimes  harsh  criticism  amiss,  and  he  was 
proud  of  having  such  a  highly  gifted  pupil,  almost  for- 
getting in  the  enthusiasm  of  his  artistic  work  that  he 
was  a  bit  in  love.  He  got  his  kiss  regularly  at  the  end 
of  the  lesson  and  sometimes  two  or  three  extra  ones, 
but  it  had  become  such  an  established  custom  with  them 
that  they  had  finally  come  to  regard  such  little  expres- 
sions of  affection  as  friendly  jests.  Ilonka,  the  Good, 
must  help,  and  with  this  idea  in  his  head  he  dozed  off 
into  his  midday  siesta. 

He  was  awakened  by  a  faint  knock  at  the  door. 
"  Come  in !  "  he  called,  springing  to  his  feet  and  rub- 
bing his  eyes.  There  stood  little  Olga  Mikulska  on 
the  threshold.  She  shut  the  door  behind  her  quickly 
and  made  an  embarrassed  little  curtsey. 

"  Well,  how  do  you  do,  child  ? "  called  out  Florian 


202  Florian  Mayr 

cheerily.  He  took  her  hand  and  led  her  to  the  table 
where  the  hat  and  the  sweetmeats  lay. 

"  Before  you  say  anything  open  your  mouth  wide," 
he  cried  to  the  hesitating  child.  She  did  as  he  told 
her  and  he  stuffed  a  large  piece  of  cake  into  her  mouth. 
The  little  girl  chewed  and  her  big  eyes  shone  with  de- 
light as  she  ate.  She  could  hardly  believe  that  this 
magnificence  was  all  for  her,  and  particularly  the  beau- 
tiful hat  which  the  kind  gentleman  placed  upon  her 
head !  She  let  him  stuff  piece  after  piece  of  cake  into 
her  mouth  and  lead  her  up  to  the  mirror  where  she  could 
admire  her  finery. 

Florian  had,  indeed,  to  confess  to  himself  that  the 
fine  hat  did  not  go  at  all  with  the  little  girl's  miserable 
rags,  and  it  was  impossible  to  make  anything  out  of 
her  ordinary  face  with  its  bad  complexion  and  her  two 
blond  braids  hanging  down  behind  in  peasant  fashion, 
but  he  nevertheless  enjoyed  the  speechless  surprise  of 
the  poor  child  and  told  her  that  the  hat  became  her 
beautifully. 

It  was  not  until  Olga  had  eaten  up  all  the  cake  that 
he  asked  her  what  decision  her  sister  Helena  had 
reached. 

"  Boje  pomoz  mnie  —  sister  is  stupid,"  whispered 
Olga  with  a  droll  gesture  of  deprecation,  "  and  mother 
is !  .  .  ."  Then  she  hesitated. 

"  Mother  is  stupid  too !  "  completed  Florian  with  a 
satisfied  nod  of  assent.  "  Well,  and  what  does  mother 
say?" 

"  Mother  says  ladies  must  not  take  presents  from  gen- 
tlemen, for  it  is  dangerous !  " 

"  That's  a  very  wise  precept  of  mother's,"  teased 
Florian,  imitating  the  child's  accent.  "But  I'll  tell 


An  Indiscretion  203 

you  what,  little  one,  nobody's  going  to  give  you  any- 
thing who  doesn't  really  want  to  help  you !  " 

"Why?" 

"  Lord  bless  you,  because  your  looks  are  not  that  way, 
you  poor  things !  "  murmured  Florian  half  to  himself. 
The  child  looked  up  at  him  without  comprehending 
and  he  patted  her  pale  cheeks  tenderly.  He  asked 
Olga  many  things  about  their  circumstances,  and  it  was 
not  difficult  to  induce  her  to  talk.  The  father,  Herr 
von  Mikulski,  had  been  staff  captain  in  the  Kussian 
army,  but  had  been  exiled  to  Siberia  as  a  political  sus- 
pect when  Olga  was  only  three  years  old.  He  left  his 
family  in  the  most  straitened  circumstances  with  a 
small  capital  that  brought  them  scarcely  six  hundred 
marks  a  year  interest.  The  mother  was  not  able  to 
earn  anything,  for  physically  she  was  too  delicate,  and 
beyond  that  she  had  learned  next  to  nothing  that  could 
be  turned  to  account.  Then  Helena  made  up  her  mind 
to  develop  her  musical  gifts  which  she  had  shown  at 
an  early  age.  A  Warsaw  professor  had  interested  him- 
self in  her  and  given  her  lessons  for  nothing.  Dur- 
ing the  last  few  years  the  weakness  in  her  lungs  had 
developed  so  alarmingly  that  the  physicians  had  pre- 
scribed a  continued  residence  in  a  more  southerly  cli- 
mate as  absolutely  necessary.  In  order  to  make  possi- 
ble this  change  the  mother  had  been  obliged  to  sell  all 
her  movable  property.  They  had  lived  for  a  year  in 
a  small  and  cheap  city  of  Galicia  where  Helena's  health 
had,  indeed,  improved,  and  now  they  had  been  a  month 
in  Weimar,  which  in  their  simplicity  they  seemed  to 
regard  as  lying  in  the  far  south,  and  were  living  along 
aimlessly  under  the  most  cruel  privations,  borne  up 
only  by  the  hope  that  Liszt  would  help  Helena  to  secure 


204  Florian  Mayr 

a  position,  or  that  the  father  would  perhaps  be  pardoned 
and  returned  to  them. 

Up  to  the  present  time  Helena  did  not  appear  to  have 
taken  any  rational  steps  to  earn  anything  with  her  piano 
playing,  and  it  was  very  apparent  from  Olga's  account 
that  the  mother  was  mostly  to  blame  for  this.  This 
good  lady  was  evidently  a  frightfully  stupid  person 
and  possessed  of  an  absolutely  ridiculous  dread  that  her 
poor,  ugly,  emaciated  daughters  would  fall  victims  to 
the  importunities  of  the  opposite  sex.  On  this  account 
it  was  naturally  impossible  for  her  to  secure  helpful 
friends  and  influential  patrons. 

During  the  little  one's  narrative  there  came  a  knock 
at  the  door,  and  upon  Florian's  "  Come  in "  the  two 
young  Crookes  entered  the  room.  They  were  both 
red  in  the  face,  and  carried  out  with  embarrassed  haste 
their  father's  commission;  this  was  to  deliver  to  Flor- 
ian a  number  of  tracts  and  pamphlets,  which  treated  of 
the  pernicious  effects  of  alcohol,  the  preeminent  quali- 
ties of  vegetarianism,  and  the  glories  of  spiritualism; 
most  of  these  were  in  English. 

The  two  lads  seemed  to  be  in  a  hurry  to  get  away, 
but  Florian  held  them  fast  and  laughingly  begged  them 
to  take  at  least  the  English  part  of  the  writings  back 
with  them,  as  he  did  not  understand  that  language. 
But  the  elder  Master  Crookes  put  on  a  knowing  expres- 
sion and  replied,  "  Oh,  you  need  not  read  them  at  all ; 
father  is  satisfied  if  you  only  keep  them.  He  gets  them 
by  weight.  Oh,  we  have  pounds  and  pounds  of  every 
kind,  and  it's  awful  sad  because  people  in  Germany 
won't  take  that  kind  of  thing  even  for  a  gift." 

"  Well,  I  can  do  that  favor,  at  least,"  laughed  Flor-' 
ian,  and  then  he  introduced  the  two  young  gentlemen  to 


An  Indiscretion  205 

little  Fraulein  Mikulska  and  begged  all  three  to  be 
•eated. 

He  offered  them  cigars  but  of  course  the  young  gen- 
tlemen were  not  allowed  to  smoke.  Florian  got  very 
nervous.  He  scratched  his  head,  rolled  his  eyes  up 
comically,  and  called  out,  "  Lord  bless  my  soul,  what  a 
crazy  world  this  is !  I  have  no  doubt  that  one  can  live 
without  meat,  beer,  or  tobacco,  if  necessary,  but  when 
one  is  not  allowed  to  touch  any  of  those  things  in 
youth,  I  should  think  one  would  get  a  perfectly  in- 
fernal appetite  for  them !  " 

"  Oh,  we've  already  eaten  meat!  "  boasted  the  younger 
Crookes.  "  We've  got  an  aunt ;  father  hates  her ;  but 
she's  very  rich  and  is  going  to  leave  us  something  in 
her  will  when  she  dies  and  so  father  sends  us  to  visit 
her  sometimes.  He  hates  her  because  she  gives  us  meat 
and  wine  and  everything  that  we're  not  allowed  to 
have.  But  we  like  meat  no  end.  Dick  likes  it  even 
more  than  I  do,"  and  he  nodded  towards  his  elder 
brother. 

"  Oh,"  said  Dick,  pointing  mischievously  at  his 
brother ;  "  and  Bob  was  drunk  once,  on  a  Sunday  too ! 
And  he  took  a  black  cat  to  church  under  his  arm  and 
during  the  service  he  let  her  go.  All  the  people  laughed 
so  when  she  jumped  up  on  the  chancel,  and  the  curate 
got  such  a  fright !  " 

"  Oho !  "  cried  Florian,  "  that  shows  that  the  devil 
lives  in  alcohol.  And  what  did  your  father  say  to 
that?" 

"  Oh,  he  never  found  it  out,"  replied  Bob  with  roguish 
joy.  "  Aunty  gave  me  a  box  on  the  ear  and  then  it  was 
all  right."  The  two  young  gentlemen  now  became  quite 
at  home  and  loquacious.  The  visit  to  their  aunt  was 


206  Florian  Mayr 

evidently  among  their  most  cherished  memories  and 
they  recounted  with  childish  glee  all  the  larks  that  they 
had  had  there.  Florian  liked  the  big,  inoffensive  lads 
very  well  and  little  Olga  laughed  out  loud  several  times 
at  their  stories.  They  left  soon  afterwards,  as  their 
time  for  practicing  had  arrived.  They  asked  Florian 
if  he  would  not  sometimes  play  trios  with  them.  He 
accepted  this  invitation  readily  and  accompanied  them 
to  the  door.  There  Dick  caught  him  by  the  sleeve  and 
drew  him  into  the  corridor,  where  he  whispered  in  an 
embarrassed  way,  "  We  would  so  much  like  to  do  some- 
thing for  the  poor  Polish  girls,  but  we  haven't  any  money. 
Father  almost  never  gives  us  money.  We  really  don't 
need  any  either,  for  father  is  always  with  us  and  pays  for 
everything.  We  only  have  money  when  we  win  prizes 
at  boxing  or  foot-ball  or  something  like  that."  And 
Bob  added  with  an  important  air,  "  Oh,  I  won  a  pound 
once,  because  I  knocked  two  of  father's  teeth  out  box- 
ing. He  was  very  proud  of  me.  But  we  don't  box 
any  more  now  because  it  spoils  the  hands  for  playing  the 
violin." 

With  that  they  took  their  leave  and  ran  merrily  up 
the  stairs.  Florian  now  sent  little  Olga  away,  for  he 
heard  from  over  the  way  how  Helena  suddenly  stopped 
her  practicing  on  account  of  a  terrible  fit  of  coughing. 
He  told  her  to  admonish  her  sister  to  husband  her 
strength  carefully,  as  it  was  absolutely  necessary  that 
she  should  go  with  him  to  Liszt  sometime  during  the 
next  few  days.  He  believed  that  he  could  promise  her 
that  the  clothing  problem  would  be  happily  solved  to- 
day or  to-morrow  at  the  latest. 

On  this  day  he  went  to  Fraulein  Badacs  earlier  than 
usual  as  he  felt  the  necessity  of  giving  vent  to  his  feel- 


An  Indiscretion      .  207 

ings.  "Do  you  know,  my  dearest  Ilonka,"  he  began 
without  further  preface,  as  soon  as  he  found  himself 
sitting  on  the  comfortable  sofa  in  her  pretty  rooms, 
"Do  you  know  what  the  greatest  curse  in  this  world 
really  is?" 

"  Oh,  go  away,  Herr  Mayr,  now  you  want  to  scold  at 
us  women  again.  Is  not  nice  of  you,  when  I'm  so  kind 
to  you !  "  And  she  bent  down  quickly  over  his  shoulder 
and  kissed  him. 

"  Thanks  very  much,"  laughed  Florian,  "  but  I  don't 
mean  the  women  at  all,  I  mean  the  parents  in  gen- 
eral. It's  quite  impossible  to  say  how  many  parents 
ruin  their  children,  mostly  spiritually.  It  makes  me 
so  angry  I  could  just  .  .  ."  and  he  brought  his  fist 
down  upon  the  table  with  a  thump.  "  How  many  fine 
young  people  have  I  known  who  never  will  amount  to 
anything  and  never  can,  because  they've  got  foolish 
parents.  But  of  course  the  world  has  always  been 
tyrannized  over  by  a  lot  of  stupid  proverbs,  like,  for  in- 
stance, '  Old  age  under  all  circumstances  must  be  re- 
spected,' and,  '  The  egg  mustn't  try  to  be  wiser  than 
the  hen.'  Lord  bless  me,  I  won't  say  anything  about 
the  egg,  but  one  thing  is  sure,  and  that  is  that  the  young 
cock  is  wiser  than  the  old  hen  every  time!  And  I'd 
like  to  know  why  an  old  fool  should  be  worthy  of  respect 
and  a  young  fool  be  only  just  a  fool!  If  anyone  is 
born  a  blockhead,  he's  going  to  be  a  bigger  one  as  the 
years  go  by.  Now,  why  is  it  that  old  people  stick  to 
their  opinions  so  obstinately  ?  Why,  just  because  they 
can't  make  their  influence  felt  by  what  they  are  still 
able  to  accomplish  or  by  their  personal  qualities,  and 
so  they  just  bully  those  who  are  dependent  on  'em  and 
can't  defend  themselves!  Bless  my  soul,  the  beasts  of 


208  Florian  Mayr 

the  field  are  cleverer !  As  soon  as  the  young  ones  can 
eat  and  run  and  take  care  of  themselves,  the  parents  let 
'em  go  and  don't  bother  themselves  about  'em  any 
longer ;  and  that's  right,  that's  the  rational,  sacred  order 
of  nature  —  confound  it  all !  "  And  he  banged  his  fist 
down  on  the  table  again  with  a  violence  that  made  the 
tea-things  jingle. 

He  looked  so  funny  in  his  righteous  indignation  that 
Ilonka  was  seized  with  a  fit  of  hysterical  laughter. 
She  tried  to  speak  but  she  could  not  get  out  a  word. 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  may  laugh  as  much  as  you  please !  " 
continued  Florian  earnestly,  as  soon  as  she  had  recov- 
ered somewhat. 

"  Not  one  of  your  two  or  more  fathers  ever  bothered 
himself  about  you,  and  so  far  as  your  Mamma  Hoopla 
is  concerned  —  well,  the  Lord  rest  her  soul !  If  a  man 
is  going  to  amount  to  anything,  he's  got  to  do  it  him- 
self. But  when  his  parents  try  to  force  something  out 
of  him,  they  usually  begin  at  the  wrong  end,  and  it's  a 
beastly  failure.  Isn't  that  so  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course  is  so !  "  cried  Ilonka  still  laugh- 
ing. "  Friend  Mayr,  you  are  very  famous  philoso- 
pher!" 

"  A  lot  of  philosophy  is  needed  for  that ! "  bawled 
Florian.  "  All  you  want  is  two  eyes  and  a  little  com- 
mon sense,  and  you  see  enough  things  every  day  to  make 
you  furious  for  the  rest  of  your  life !  I  say  there  are 
two  kinds  of  parents,  in  the  first  place  those  whose  chil- 
dren are  just  as  damned  idiotic  as  they  are  themselves, 
and  then  those  whose  children  are  much  cleverer  than 
they.  The  first  try  to  teach  their  children  things  that 
absolutely  won't  go  into  their  thick  skulls  and  so  make 
'em  miserable ;  the  others  call  it  impudent  if  their  chil- 


An  Indiscretion  209 

dren's  ideas  take  another  direction  from  their  own,  and 
they  try  with  all  their  might  to  crush  out  the  incon- 
venient originality.  It's  a  shame  such  a  bunch  can't 
be  prosecuted  for  infanticide !  —  There,  Fraulein 
Ilonka,  I've  had  my  say, —  and  I  feel  better,  thank 
the  Lord !  And  now  just  pay  attention ;  I'm  going  to 
prove  my  assertions  by  appropriate  examples." 

And  he  related  with  the  eloquence  of  indignation  the 
case  of  the  Crookes  and  the  case  of  the  Mikulskas. 

He  could  not  have  found  a  more  sympathetic  listener 
than  his  Hungarian  friend.  She  burned  with  impa- 
tience to  make  the  acquaintance  of  the  eccentric  Papa 
Crookes  and  to  play  him  a  jolly  good  trick.  But  the 
story  of  poor  Helena  Mikulska  really  went  to  her  heart, 
and  she  at  once  declared  her  intention  of  giving  her 
some  of  the  most  necessary  things  from  her  own  ward- 
robe, so  that  the  young  girl  might  be  suitably  fitted 
out.  She  would  take  her  the  things  herself  that  very 
evening  and  was  sure  that  Mother  Mikulska  would,  in 
the  case  of  a  lady,  not  persist  in  her  foolish  refusal  to 
accept  anything.  With  feverish  ardor  she  began  to 
rummage  in  her  wardrobe  and  boxes  to  find  something 
that  would  do  for  her  poor  fellow  musician.  It  was 
not  easy,  for  most  of  her  gowns  were  much  too  elegant 
and  costly.  At  last,  after  much  deliberation  between 
the  two,  she  put  aside  for  Helena  a  simply  made  silk 
dress,  not  quite  new.  But  that  was  not  enough.  The 
poor  girl  had  to  have  linen  and  underwear  to  go  with 
it.  And  she  literally  threw  the  entire  contents  of  her 
bureau-drawers  upon  the  floor,  examined  everything 
piece  by  piece  and  finally  selected  two  pairs  each  of 
stockings  and  drawers,  two  chemises,  one  white  and 
one  colored  underskirt,  all  in  good  condition  and  new. 


210  Florian  Mayr 

"  There !  "  she  exclaimed  gayly,  as  she  rose  from  the 
floor,  "  Qa  va  bien  pour  le  commencement, —  she  can 
always  have  one  half  washed,  will  last  for  months.  I 
done  that  already  myself  when  all  was  at  pawnbrok- 
er's !  We  will  change  the  dress  so  it  fits.  Mother  can- 
not be  so  big  goose  that  she  cannot  sew  ?  All  right  now 
but  shoes,  but  I  have  too  sweet  little  foot,  my  shoe  won't 
fit  any  other  girl !  " 

And  she  chattered  away  merrily  as  she  ran  pink 
ribbons  through  the  underclothing,  sprayed  it  with  per- 
fumery and  finally  made  a  neat  package  of  it,  bound 
with  string. 

During  all  this  time  Florian  stood  by  and  watched 
her.  She  had  never  seemed  so  lovely  to  him  as  now,  in 
the  midst  of  this  feminine  employment,  and  when  the 
package  was  ready  and  she  looked  up  at  him  with  a 
smile,  he  clasped  her  tightly  in  his  arms,  pressed  her 
head  against  his  shoulder,  and  kissed  her  on  the  fore- 
head. 

"  Dear  Ilonka !  Dear,  good  Ilonka !  "  he  whispered 
over  and  over  again.  He  could  not  say  more,  his  heart 
was  too  fulL 

Somewhat  surprised  she  freed  herself  from  his  clasp 
and  said  with  a  smile  of  gentle  sweetness,  such  as  he 
had  never  seen  on  her  face  before :  "  Oh,  what  you 
mean,  dear  friend  ?  What  you  mean  I  am  so  good  ? 
Just  common  egotism  of  me  —  hurts  my  heart  so  when 
I  must  hear  of  sickness  and  want  among  comrades. 
I  feel  uncomfortable  when  I  must  think:  Ilonka  has 
every  day  good  dinner  and  beautiful  clothes,  and  poor 
girl  with  much  talent  right  near  has  nothing  to  eat 
and  nothing  to  wear  on  her  body.  I  rather  give  few 
shirts  and  few  drawers  than  hurt  my  heart  like  that! 


An  Indiscretion  211 

Now  I  can  be  jolly  again  with  good  conscience. —  But 
you  are  good  good  boy,  dear  friend,  you  are  so  good 
I  must  call  you  by  your  first  name.  You  are  better 
than  whole  lot  of  them.  They  are  all  no  good.  I 
only  swindle  you  about  them  because  it  was  so  funny, 
you  believed  everything.  I  won't  do  that  again,  hon- 
est!" 

And  she  bent  over  and  kissed  his  hand,  and  then 
she  laid  her  cheek  against  this  hand  and  looked  up  so 
kindly  and  honestly  with  her  great  black  eyes,  like  a  big 
good-natured  dog. 

And  Elorian  could  restrain  himself  no  longer.  His 
heart  glowed  and  his  eyes  filled  with  tears  —  he  could 
not  tell  why  — 

"  O-o-o !  "  said  Ilonka  in  a  tender  strangely  long 
drawn-out  tone;  and  then  she  put  her  arms  about  his 
neck  and  kissed  him.  They  were  the  first  real  love- 
kisses  he  had  ever  received.  His  senses  reeled;  his 
blood  hammered  in  all  his  pulses,  and  his  arm  clasped 
her  so  tightly  that  she  at  last  freed  herself  from  him 
with  a  subdued  cry  of  pain. 

Twilight  had  long  since  closed  in,  but  they  did  not 
think  of  lighting  the  lamp.  Neither  did  they  think 
of  their  music  that  evening.  They  sat  together  on 
the  sofa  and  whispered  and  caressed.  He  felt  that  he 
loved  her,  and  surely  these  kisses,  these  caresses  — 
they  could  mean  only  that  she  too  loved  him  — ... 

And  when  Florian  at  last  went  home  the  stars  were 
shining  in  the  dark  night  sky,  and  the  little  city  already 
lay  in  peaceful,  Philistine  slumber.  The  gaunt  youth 
stood  on  the  bridge  over  the  Ilm  with  his  silk  hat  in 
his  hand,  his  face  turned  upward  to  the  stars.  The 
old  Adam  in  him  had  been  melted  down;  he  had  be- 


212  Morian  Mayr 

come  a  new  man, —  a  new  man  with  wonderful,  un- 
dreamt-of feelings  and  a  brand-new  understanding  for 
the  things  of  this  world. 

He  wandered  home  by  dark  and  lonely  ways  —  sup- 
perless.  Profane  eyes  should  not  seek  to  read  in  his 
countenance  the  miracle  that  had  been  wrought  upon 
him  this  day.  He  laid  himself  down,  and  his  bed 
seemed  to  him  a  boat  which  bore  him  lightly  over  rolling 
waves  to  an  island  of  fairy  loveliness,  an  island  which 
was  ever  before  his  eyes  with  its  swaying  palm-trees, 
where  birds  of  brilliant  plumage  nested,  and  which 
sent  its  intoxicating  perfumes  far  out  over  the  sea, — 
and  which  his  rocking  boat  could  never  reach. 


CHAPTER  XI 
Ilonka,  the  Good 

now  to  think  that  the  next  morning  it  should  be 
raining  when  Florian  Mayr  awoke  rather  later  than 
usual !  The  stars  had  smiled  so  kindly  upon  his  home- 
ward way  the  night  before, —  and  now  this  sudden 
change  of  weather!  He  had  slept  so  beautifully,  like 
a  child  in  its  cradle, —  and  now  this  awakening  to  grim 
misgivings  and  bitter  regret !  The  scornful  sky 
seemed  with  its  dashes  of  cold  water  to  wish  to  remind 
mankind  that  the  springtime  of  unalloyed  bliss  was  a 
stupid  invention  of  German  poets ;  and  on  Florian's  bed, 
as  he  stared  with  unbelieving  eyes  into  the  dun  gray 
twilight  of  the  morning,  sprawled  a  moral  "  Kater  "  of 
extraordinary  dimensions.  He  sat  up,  plunged  all  ten 
fingers  into  his  thin  shock  of  hair,  and  hissed  under  his 
breath:  "Well,  I  am  a  low-down  brute!  That's  just 
what  I  am. —  What  have  you  been  doing,  you  misera- 
ble wretch  ?  You've  been  flirting  shamefully  with  a 
noble-minded  girl. —  What  ought  you  to  get  for  trifling 
that  way  with  her  innocent  affections?  You  ought  to 
be  whipped  in  the  open  market  place  with  a  placard 
hung  around  your  neck :  '  This  is  a  swine.'  Just 
wait,  you  contemptible  scoundrel ! "  And  with  his 
right  hand  he  boxed  his  own  ears  while  he  punched  him- 
self in  the  ribs  with  his  left. 

By  this  time  he  was  thoroughly  awake.     He  crawled 
out  of  bed   and  slunk  to  the  looking  glass.     He  re- 
213 


214  Florian  Mayr 

garded  his  reflection  with  curious  interest ;  anyone  could 
tell  from  his  face  what  a  miserable  sinner  he  was.  Hm ! 
So  that  was  the  way  a  false-hearted  flirt,  a  trifler  with 
young  affections,  looked,  was  it?  Somewhere  on  his 
forehead  there  must  be  the  brand  of  shame.  He  looked 
for  it  in  vain.  In  fact  he  was  obliged  to  confess  that 
he  was  looking  uncommonly  brisk  and  fit.  Well,  at 
all  events  others  would  somehow  detect  about  him  the 
signs  of  his  levity  and  unworthiness.  How  could  he 
enter  his  dear  Master's  presence  now !  And  above  all, 
she!  How  could  he  look  her  in  the  eyes  to-day? 
Well,  in  any  case  he  now  would  show  the  courage  of  a 
man.  He  would  go  to  her  and  humbly  ask  her  hand 
in  marriage.  Perhaps  it  could  all  be  quickly  arranged 
and  then  she  would  know  him  for  an  honest  suitor  and 
no  longer  think  him  the  mere  trifler  he  had  seemed. 
He  thought  with  terror  of  the  expense,  as  he  stood  bend- 
ing over  the  wash-basin,  and  as  he  pulled  on  his  trous- 
ers, a  still  more  terrible  thought  overwhelmed  him: 
suppose  the  Master  should  be  angry  and  send  him  away 
wholly  discredited  so  far  as  his  profession  was  con- 
cerned !  His  career  would  then  be  ruined  and  a  ma- 
licious world  would  point  the  finger  of  scorn  at 
him. 

He  even  felt  a  little  shy  about  greeting  his  good 
landlady  when  she  brought  him  his  breakfast  and  on  the 
way  to  the  Hofgartnerei  he  held  his  umbrella  down  so 
that  no  one  should  recognize  him. 

With  guilty  apprehensions  he  entered  the  Master's 
working  room.  He  was  ten  minutes  late  and  so  did 
not  meet  with  an  exactly  gracious  reception.  Liszt 
was  annoyed  at  some  particularly  shameless  and  pre- 
sumptuous demand  that  had  come  in  the  morning  mail ; 


Ilonka,  the  Good  215 

but  the  conscience-stricken  Florian  thought  of  course 
that  that  keen  eye  had  already  discovered  his  folly. 
He  was  absent-minded  all  the  morning  and  when  he 
had  to  play  a  duet  from  manuscript  with  the  Master  he 
made  so  many  blunders  that  Liszt  frowned  and  warned 
him  to  be  more  careful. 

The  morning  was  to  end  in  still  greater  disaster. 

"  We  are  going  to-morrow  to  the  Loh  concert  in 
Sondershausen,"  said  Liszt  when  their  labors  were 
ended.  "  Erdmannsdb'rffer  is  going  to  give  my  *  Moun- 
tain '  symphony.  You  may  come  with  us,  pchah. 
Meanwhile  you  can  go  and  find  out  which  train  is  the 
best" 

"  Oh,  pardon  me,  Master,  I  know  that  already ;  the 
best  train  for  Sondershausen  leaves  at  10:25,"  replied 
Florian  quickly. 

Liszt  shook  his  forefinger  in  the  Italian  way  as  a 
sign  of  negation  and  said :  "  No,  that  train  won't  do 
for  me ;  we  can't  take  that." 

"  So  ?  "  drawled  Florian  in  a  tone  of  surprise  and  in- 
quiry. 

And  all  at  once,  before  he  knew  what  had  happened 
to  him,  he  received  a  well-aimed,  resounding  cuff  on 
his  right  cheek.  As  he  had  himself  attended  to  the  left 
cheek  earlier  in  the  morning,  his  corporeal  and  spiritual 
equilibrium  was  now  most  perfectly  established,  and 
he  was  conscious,  too,  to  his  deep  chagrin,  that  he  had 
deserved  far  more  than  a  few  slaps.  But  for  the  mo- 
ment he  was  so  frightened  that  he  could  not  even  say 
"  ouch !  "  but  only  stare  at  his  angry  Master  in  open- 
mouthed  astonishment. 

Liszt  was  stalking  up  and  down  the  room  with  long 
itrides  and  not  once  did  he  look  at  his  disciplined  pupil 


216  Morian  Mayr 

until  the  latter,  almost  in  tears,  was  at  last  able  to 
stammer :  "  But,  Master,  what  have  I  done  ?  " 

Then  Liszt  went  up  behind  Morian,  still  without 
looking  at  him,  and,  patting  his  shoulder  soothingly, 
said,  a  little  embarrassed :  "  There,  there  —  pchah  — 
it  wasn't  meant  so  bad  as  all  that,  my  son.  I  didn't 
intend  to  hurt  you,  but  people  don't  say  *  So  ? '  to  me. 
Mind  that !  "  And  with  a  princely  wave  of  the  hand 
he  dismissed  the  poor  sinner. 

Florian  ran  rapidly  to  the  station.  He  had  no  over- 
coat, only  an  umbrella  to  protect  him  from  the  pelting 
rain.  His  wet  trousers  were  clinging  to  his  legs  when 
he  reached  the  station  just  in  time  to  catch  the  10.25 
train.  He  rode  as  far  as  Erfurt,  made  the  most  care- 
ful inquiries  at  the  station  there  concerning  the  connec- 
tions with  Sondershausen,  and  established  the  point  be- 
yond all  doubt  that  it  really  was  just  as  he  had  said :  it 
was  not  possible  to  get  from  Weimar  to  the  little 
Court  town  of  Schwarzburg  more  quickly  or  more  com- 
fortably than  by  this  train.  He  then  strolled  about  the 
city  until  the  next  train  took  him  back.  Wet  and  half 
frozen,  as  he  was,  he  rushed  up  to  the  Hofgartnerei, 
found  the  Master  at  home,  and  announced,  while  his 
face  beamed  with  satisfaction,  that  the  10 :25  was  really 
without  an  equal. 

"  So  ? "  said  Liszt  in  a  long  drawl.  And  then  he 
suddenly  burst  into  a  hearty  laugh,  for  it  occurred  to 
him  that  it  was  precisely  the  same  syllable  with  the 
same  intonation  that  he  had  just  punished  so  severely. 
He  stroked  Florian's  cheek  affectionately,  the  cheek 
which  had  so  recently  felt  the  whole  weight  of  his 
wrath,  and  said :  "  Very  good,  my  son.  Well  done. 
I  was  wrong ;  forgive  me.  But  in  spite  of  all  that,  peo- 


Ilonka,  the  Good  217 

pie  must  not  say  (  So  ? '  to  me,  pchah !  You  may  come 
and  dine  with  me  to-day,  St.  Florian,"  and  he  parted 
from  him  with  a  cordial  pressure  of  the  hand. 

Much  elated  Florian  hastened  home;  while  he  was 
changing  his  wet  clothes  he  even  whistled  in  his  joy. 
The  blow  from  the  Master  and  his  own  little  excursion 
had  done  him  good  and  made  him  forget  his  moral 
"  katzen jammer."  He  had  not  even  given  a  thought  to 
the  Mikulska  family.  The  pretty  straw  hat  which  he 
had  given  little  Olga  the  day  before  was  lying  on  his 
table  when  he  returned  but  he  had  to  think  some  time 
before  he  could  make  out  what  it  was  doing  there ;  then 
it  dawned  upon  him  that  that  inconceivably  foolish 
mother  must  have  forbidden  Olga  to  accept  the  gift. 
It  now  occurred  to  him  also  that  he  had  left  that  large 
bundle  of  clothes  at  his  Ilonka's  yesterday.  Oh,  he 
really  was  a  very  bad  man,  never  thinking  of  anyone  but 
himself !  Would  he  now  have  to  go  and  get  those  things 
for  the  poor  girl  right  away?  Ilonka  certainly  could 
not  carry  them, —  besides  she  might  feel  a  little  deli- 
cate about  coming  to  the  house  where  he  also  lived. 
He  wrestled  with  the  thought  of  going  to  her,  until  the 
dinner  hour  arrived,  and  when  he  had  acquired  new 
strength  at  Liszt's  excellent  board  and  had  imbibed 
a  little  courage  from  the  good  wines,  he  asked  the  Master 
to  be  permitted  to  remain  away  from  the  "  Swarm  " 
that  afternoon,  as  he  had  neglected  his  practicing.  The 
fact  was  he  did  not  trust  himself  to  meet  Ilonka  again 
in  the  presence  of  so  many  people  after  what  had  oc- 
curred. He  wished  to  give  himself  up  to  solitary  medi- 
tation and  to  collect  himself;  then  in  the  evening  — 
perhaps  —  he  would  go  to  her  and  ask  her  to  be  his 
bride. 


218  Florian  Mayr 

To  the  business  of  collecting  himself  he  began  to  give 
serious  attention  as  soon  as  he  had  partly  slept  off  the 
agreeable  effects  of  the  dinner.  He  tried  to  form  a 
mental  picture  of  married  life  with  Ilonka  Badacs,  both 
from  the  practical  and  from  the  ideal  point  of  view. 
With  the  best  intention  to  see  the  light  only,  he  settled 
down  to  think;  the  result,  however,  was  nothing  but 
empty  shadow.  She  was  accustomed  to  spend  a  great 
deal  of  money  on  her  toilette,  her  good  dinners,  and  her 
comfortable  lodgings.  It  was  altogether  out  of  the 
question  for  him  to  earn  enough  for  both;  it  would  be 
necessary,  therefore,  for  each  to  earn  his  own  living 
as  heretofore.  Since  they  were  both  pianists,  they  could 
not  very  well  go  on  concert  tours  together.  A  duet- 
playing  married  couple  would,  it  is  true,  be  a  novelty 
but  it  would  soon  grow  stale,  if  not  downright  ridicu- 
lous. The  probable  outcome  would  be  that  Frau  Mayr- 
Badacs  would  be  traveling  through  the  south  of  Russia 
while  Herr  Mayr  was  exploiting  the  western  States  of 
the  American  Union.  Under  such  circumstances  there 
could  be  no  thought  of  a  real  married  life.  On  the 
other  hand  she  could  not  be  expected  to  give  up  her 
brilliant  career  as  a  pianist  to  become  the  humble 
wife  of  a  moderately  paid  professor  at  the  conservatory 
of  X-ville  or  a  conductor  of  some  amateur  musical  so- 
ciety in  Y-town.  With  her  volatile  gypsy  blood  and  her 
scintillating  wit  she  was  perfectly  designed  for  a  life 
in  which  one  day  the  champagne  flows  in  streams  and 
on  the  next  there  is  not  enough  money  to  pay  the  cob- 
bler for  half-soling  shoes.  She  was  able  to  live  on  her 
debts  and  yet  keep  in  the  best  of  spirits;  she  knew 
how  to  celebrate  holidays, —  if  only  there  were  any  holi- 
days to  celebrate!  But  of  all  the  qualities  necessary 


Ilonka,  the  Good  219 

to  make  a  home  comfortable  for  a  husband  of  the  mid- 
dle bourgeois  class  she  possessed  not  a  single  one.  And 
when  now,  in  conclusion,  Florian  put  the  question  to 
himself:  did  he  really  love  this  piquant  beauty  with 
her  amiable  temperament,  her  versatile  mind,  her  tal- 
ent, and  her  goodness  of  heart, —  love  her,  that  is,  with 
blind  irremediable  stupidity;  love  her  exclusively  and 
for  what  they  call  eternity, —  he  was  obliged  to  confess 
to  his  own  surprise  and  mortification  that  he  did  not. 

Helpless  and  the  picture  of  misery,  he  was  sitting 
in  the  corner  of  his  sofa,  pulling  away  feebly  at  a  six- 
pfennig  consolation  cigar,  when  Mr.  Crookes  and  his 
two  sons,  armed  with  violin  and  cello,  entered  the  room 
and  asked  if  he  would  have  the  kindness  to  play  with 
them.  Florian  could  not  have  been  more  grateful  to 
them  had  they  been  angels  from  heaven ;  he  accepted  the 
proposal  with  enthusiasm.  Let  him  at  any  cost  not 
have  to  think  any  more  for  the  present.  The  rigid 
Crookes  was  an  excellent  stick  with  which  to  kill  time. 

The  stick  took  his  seat  in  the  corner  of  the  sofa  and 
Florian  went  eagerly  to  work  with  the  two  youngsters. 
He  played  without  a  murmur  whatever  they  put  on 
the  rack, —  even  Mendelssohn !  It  was  all  the  same  to 
him;  any  noise  would  be  a  blessing.  Whenever  they 
finished  a  piece,  Mr.  Crookes,  senior,  clapped  his  sinewy 
hands  together  three  times  with  great  deliberation  and, 
sticking  out  his  under  jaw,  cried:  "  O-o,  bravo !  That 
is  very  fine,  indeed !  Now  let  us  have  Beethoven,"  or 
"  Would  you  mind  a  little  Schumann  ?  "  He  beamed 
with  pride  at  his  sons'  accomplishments,  whose  playing 
really  was  clean,  in  strict  time,  and  with  good  tone, 
though  a  little  dry.  Florian,  too,  came  in  for  som« 
gracious  praise  for  his  clever  sight-reading. 


220  Florian  Mayr 

Trios,  sonatas,  and  concert  pieces  for  violin  or  cello 
followed  one  another  in  great  variety,  interrupted  only 
by  very  brief  rests.  To  play  so  long  and  so  steadily 
was  of  itself  a  physical  feat  that  commanded  respect ; 
but  how  anyone  could  sit  there  for  that  length  of  time 
quietly  listening,  and  that,  too,  in  a  small  room,  with- 
out rising  from  his  seat,  without  smoking,  and  without 
having  a  drop  to  drink, —  that  was  to  Florian  a  complete 
mystery.  This  remarkable  Englishman  must  have  been 
brought  up  in  a  rolling-mill  or  his  ears  could  never 
have  endured  such  onslaughts.  And  there  seemed  to 
be  no  limit  to  the  power  of  his  brain  to  digest  music. 

For  two  hours  they  had  been  playing  all  kinds  of 
music,  classic,  romantic,  eclectic,  and  the  shades  of  even- 
ing were  already  closing  in.  Lamps  and  candles  were 
lighted;  Mr.  Crookes,  senior,  indignantly  refused  a 
glass  of  beer;  Florian  drank  two.  The  two  Crookes 
boys  were  refreshing  themselves  with  water  when  there 
came  a  knock  at  the  door  and  in  response  to  Florian' s 
wondering  "  come  in  " —  Ilonka  Badacs  entered ! 

Florian  was  so  embarrassed  that  he  turned  first  as 
white  as  chalk  and  then  a  deep  scarlet.  Good  Lord 
above,  .she  had  anticipated  him  and  had  come  to  re- 
mind him  that  he  had  not  yet  asked  her  in  due  form 
to  be  his!  Surely  she  did  not  intend  to  make  a  scene 
before  these  three  long-legged  Englishmen?  She  cer- 
tainly looked  as  if  she  might  for  she  had  on  a  dark  silk 
gown  with  very  little  jewelry  like  a  young  widow  after 
the  first  year  of  mourning  and  unless  he  was  badly  mis- 
taken her  eyes  looked  as  if  she  had  been  crying ! 

Florian  could  not  muster  the  courage  to  give  her  his 
hand ;  it  was  all  he  could  do  to  say :  "  Good  evening  " 
properly.  He  turned  hastily  to  his  guests  and  intro- 


Ilonka,  the  Good  221 

duced  "his  honored  colleague."  The  Englishmen 
bowed  with  their  customary  national  stiffness  and  did 
not  say  a  word.  Fraulein  Badacs  on  the  other  hand 
went  straight  up  to  the  elder  Mr.  Crookes,  stretched 
out  her  hand  to  him  and  with  a  powerful  shake  drew 
the  lean  gentleman's  whole  length  out  of  the  sofa  cor- 
ner. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Crookes,"  she  cried  in  her  rich,  deep  tones, 
manifesting  the  highest  gratification  while  a  radiant 
smile  lighted  up  her  pale  face :  "  Oh,  Mr.  Crookes ! 
I  am  glad  so  very,  to  meet  you  at  last.  I  have  heard 
of  you:  that  you  are  universal  genius,  apostle  of  all 
possible  schemes  to  make  world  better,  spirit  conjuror, 
and  father  of  two  very  famous  musical  boys.  Isten! 
What  they  are  for  handsome,  dear  young  gentlemen, — 
real  artist  physiognomies, —  so  sympathetic !  But  no, 
is  true,  sans  phrase,  Mr.  Crookes  ?  " 

The  leathery  Mr.  Crookes  actually  blushed  under  this 
flood  of  flattery  and  Florian  thought  to  himself :  "  My 
God,  where  does  the  woman  get  it  all  ?  " 

Without  waiting  to  see  if  the  universal  genius,  etc., 
would  find  a  few  fitting  words  in  reply  to  her  extrava- 
gant greeting,  Ilonka  went  over  to  Florian  and,  taking 
him  by  the  sleeve,  drew  him  over  into  the  window 
niche.  "My  dear  Florian,  I  must  say  to  you  some- 
thing," she  whispered  in  a  tone  so  loud  that,  had  the 
window  been  open,  she  could  have  been  heard  over  in 
the  cemetery.  And,  heavens  above,  she  called  him 
Florian  without  the  slightest  ceremony ! 

Mr.  Crookes  murmured  something  about  not  wishing 
to  intrude  any  longer  and  the  two  lads  obediently  pre- 
pared to  pack  up  their  instruments.  But  with  one 
voice  both  Florian  and  Ilonka  loudly  protested  that  they 


222  Florian  Mayr 

certainly  must  stay  and  not  allow  themselves  to  be  dis- 
turbed. 

"We  have  absolutely  no  secrets  together,"  added 
Florian  with  a  bold  front,  and  quite  naively  Ilonka  cor- 
roborated this  brazen  lie. 

Father  Crookes  subsided  and  the  three  Anglo-Saxons 
resumed  their  seats.  Then  Ilonka  told  her  anxiously 
listening  friend  that  she  had  just  come  from  the  Mikul- 
skas.  With  much  difficulty  she  had  succeeded  in  per- 
suading them  to  accept  the  gift;  but  the  misery  of 
which  this  visit  had  given  her  a  glimpse  had  so  gripped 
her  heart  that  her  eyes  grew  moist  at  the  mere  mention 
of  it.  Helena  was  sick  in  bed,  very  sick;  the  cough 
troubled  her  terribly  and  it  would  be  some  time  before 
there  could  be  any  thought  of  taking  her  to  play  to 
Liszt, 

Florian  pressed  Ilonka's  hand  gratefully, —  grate- 
fully in  the  name  of  his  protegees,  whom  in  the  tumult 
of  his  mind  he  had  entirely  forgotten,  and  gratefully, 
too,  in  his  own  name  because  she  had  not  reminded  him 
of  yesterday.  Could  it  be  possible  that  she  was  not 
angry  with  him  after  all  ? 

There  was  some  general  conversation  and  then  at 
Ilonka's  pressing  request  the  musical  entertainment  of 
the  evening  was  resumed.  The  pretty  Hungarian  seated 
herself  upon  the  sofa  and  made  Mr.  Crookes  sit  by  her 
side.  Thereupon  the  three  performers  plunged  into  a 
trio  by  Brahms. 

But  Dick  and  Bob  began  to  make  blunders  and  get 
out  of  time.  Was  Brahms  too  much  for  them  or  did 
the  presence  of  the  pretty  lady  disturb  them?  Over 
the  piano  hung  a  large  mirror  and  when  for  a  moment 
Florian  looked  up  from  the  notes  he  could  see  distinctly 


Ilonka,  the  Good  223 

how  Dick  and  Bob  took  turns  in  glancing  over  at  the 
sofa.  Yes,  and  before  long  he  had  to  witness  some- 
thing even  worse  than  that!  Mr.  Crookes,  the  world- 
reformer,  athlete,  total  abstainer,  and  consumer  of  music 
in  bulk,  began  to  flirt  and  Ilonka  entered  into  the  spirit 
of  it,  alas,  how  thoroughly!  There  was  an  exchange 
of  glances,  meaning  smiles,  an  edging  up,  imperceptible 
but  sure, —  awful !  outrageous !  Finally  Ilonka  discov- 
ered the  child's  hat  upon  the  table  and  putting  it  on, 
she  coquetted  before  the  grinning  spirit-tapper  and  made 
comical  grimaces  with  amazing  effrontery. 

Florian  could  stand  it  no  longer.  The  two  lads  had 
lost  their  places  altogether.  With  a  furious  discord  he 
stopped  short  and,  wheeling  around  on  the  piano-stool, 
he  cried  brusquely :  "  Well,  if  we'd  rather  play  mas- 
querade than  Brahms  I  don't  care  but  it's  got  to  be  one 
or  the  other." 

"  Oh,  go  along,  dear  friend,"  pouted  Ilonka,  "  why 
do  you  want  to  be  so  disagreeable  ?  You  played  so 
splendidly, —  everything  ran  and  sprang  about  like  in 
ant  hill.  Was  own  composition,  please?  Very  in- 
teresting.—  Indeed,  was  by  Brahms  ?  Very  famous 
man, —  but  I  not  like  him. —  Oh,  my  dear  friends,  do 
you  know  what?  Have  a  splendid  idea!  Let's  have 
a  lark !  Make  jolly  supper  among  us  bachelors.  Each 
pay  a  mark  for  cold  meats  and  Mr.  Crookes  pay  for 
the  drinks.  I  go  buy  things.  Splendid  idea !  " 

The  proposition  met  with  enthusiastic  approval,  espe- 
cially from  Mr.  Crookes  who,  however,  wished  to  exclude 
his  two  boys  from  the  festival.  A  decisive  word  from 
Ilonka  sufficed  to  remove  his  objections  to  the  great 
delight  of  the  two  beaming  young  gentlemen.  She 
then  asked  someone  to  go  with  her  to  help  carry  her 


224  Florian  Mayr 

purchases  and,  as  all  four  gentlemen  were  equally 
zealous  in  offering  their  services,  she  finally  let  all  four 
accompany  her  in  order  that  none  of  them  should  feel 
neglected.  In  front  of  the  door  in  the  softly  falling 
rain  there  still  stood  the  yellow  droschke  in  which  Ilonka 
had  arrived  nearly  an  hour  before.  She  had  com- 
pletely forgotten  that  she  had  told  the  driver  to  wait. 
All  five  of  them  got  into  the  rattle-box  and  at  the  best 
shops  in  town  they  bought  cold  meats,  all  kinds  of  deli- 
cacies, as  well  as  several  bottles  of  wine  and  cham- 
pagne. As  his  share  of  the  expenses  Florian  Mayr 
paid  one  mark,  the  other  thirty-two  marks  including  the 
very  expensive  droschke  Mr.  Crookes  paid  without  turn- 
ing a  hair.  As  a  reward  for  this  he  was  permitted  to 
take  a  few  bottles  of  seltzer  with  him  for  Dick  and  Bob. 
Once  home  again  Ilonka,  assisted  by  the  friendly 
landlady,  laid  the  table  and  arranged  the  good  things 
they  had  bought  with  so  much  skill  that  in  spite  of  the 
simple  service  the  table  presented  an  attractive  ap- 
pearance. Then  all  sat  down  to  the  dainty  feast.  It 
was  astonishing  to  see  by  how  simple  a  process  Mr. 
Crookes  squared  himself  with  his  vegetarian  conscience : 
he  declared  ham  to  be  the  very  flower  of  the  pig  and 
hence  it  belonged  to  the  realm  of  plants ;  caviar  was  a 
vegetable  comparable  to  young  peas,  and  lobster  salad, 
as  its  name  showed,  merely  a  salad.  It  was  only  with 
the  sausage  that,  as  a  genuine  Englishman,  he  could  not 
make  friends.  Sausage,  he  maintained,  was  and  ever 
must  be  nothing  but  stuffed  gut  and,  therefore,  no  fit 
food  for  cultivated  Europeans.  Bob  and  Dick  giggled 
incessantly.  They  had  never  seen  their  governor  in 
such  high  spirits.  They  gave  themselves  up  to  the 
thorough  enjoyment  of  the  meat  and,  as  the  seltzer  did 


Honka,  the  Good  225 

not  fit  in  with  this  at  all,  Ilonka's  art  very  soon  turned 
the  water  into  wine.  Their  father  had  declared  that 
the  juice  of  the  grape  was  a  decidedly  wholesome  and 
innocent  beverage  and  the  devil  of  the  alcohol  that  had 
slipped  in  during  fermentation  a  Christian  man  must 
overcome  by  his  own  strength  of  mind.  In  the  case  of 
his  boys,  however,  he  said  the  flesh  was  still  too  weak 
for  him  to  think  of  exposing  them  to  so  unequal  an 
encounter.  Fraulein  Badacs  hypocritically  assented 
to  this  but  slyly  shoved  her  glass  of  wine  over  to 
Dick's  place  and,  taking  his  seltzer,  drank  to  his  father, 
while  the  quick-witted  young  man  indulged  himself  in 
her  wine.  But  Bob  fell  on  his  feet,  too.  He  com- 
prehended the  trick  and  pushed  his  glass  of  carbonated 
water  towards  his  brother  who  at  a  favorable  oppor- 
tunity conveyed  it  to  the  Fraulein  whence  it  returned 
by  the  same  route  transformed  into  wine.  The  effect 
of  the  unaccustomed  poison  was  soon  evident  in  the  two 
lads.  They  began  to  take  part  in  the  conversation  with 
less  and  less  constraint;  they  became  quite  confidential 
with  Florian  and  gave  freer  and  freer  expression  to  their 
admiration  of  the  fair  Hungarian.  Finally  they  vol- 
unteered to  sing  all  sorts  of  English,  Irish,  and  Scotch 
folk-songs.  That  was  the  signal  for  the  beginning  of 
a  highly  original  concert.  The  two  boys  sang  their 
songs  really  very  well,  accompanied  themselves  on  the 
piano;  and  in  the  interludes  imitated  the  skirl  of  the 
bagpipe.  Even  Mr.  Crookes,  senior,  condescended  to 
vary  the  entertainment  by  juggling  with  the  plates  and 
glasses.  Apparently  he  was  a  little  out  of  practice 
or  was  it  the  result  of  too  copious  draughts  of  cham- 
pagne ?  At  all  events,  a  notable  heap  of  broken  glass 
and  crockery  soon  covered  the  field  of  his  artistic  ac- 


226  Florian  Mayr 

tivity.  When  the  ruins  had  been  removed,  Fraulein 
Badacs  was  pressed  to  do  something  in  her  turn.  She 
sat  down  at  the  piano  and  played  a  fiery  csardas;  the 
dash  of  the  thing  got  into  the  feet  of  the  listeners  so 
that  they  sprang  up  as  if  electrified  and  it  was  the 
funniest  thing  to  see  them  trying  to  dance  in  that  little 
room.  All  at  once  Ilonka  stopped  playing  and,  lean- 
ing against  one  of  the  posts  of  the  canopied  bed,  clasped 
her  hands  behind  her  head  and  began  to  sing.  She  had 
an  untrained  voice  of  some  natural  beauty  but  the  re- 
pressed passion  of  her  Hungarian  songs,  full  of  won- 
derful yearning,  she  knew  how  to  bring  out  most  thril- 
lingly.  And  how  beautiful  she  was  as  she  stood  there 
in  that  attitude  of  statuesque  repose,  her  large  dark 
eyes  looking  upward  with  an  expression  of  melancholy ! 
Florian  Mayr  was  the  only  one  who  throughout  the 
evening  had  been  unable  to  enter  fully  into  the  taerry 
mood  of  the  party.  He  had  observed  with  increasing 
displeasure  Ilonka's  behavior  towards  the  three  Eng- 
lishmen. That  she  simply  wanted  to  have  her  fun 
with  the  elder  Crookes  was  of  course  evident  but, 
thought  Florian,  that  was  no  reason  for  flirting  with 
him  so  violently.  And  why  she  should  want  to  turn 
the  heads  of  these  good  harmless  lads,  stroking  their 
cheeks  and  letting  them  cover  her  bare  arms  with  kisses 
up  to  the  elbow,  that  he  could  not  understand  at  all. 
She  was  now  in  a  way  his  fiancee,  at  least  his  sweet- 
heart,—  how  could  she  carry  on  so  unceremoniously  in 
his  presence!  Florian  was  jealous.  And  now,  stand- 
ing there  and  singing,  she  stirred  his  heart  mightily 
with  her  yearning  tones.  The  blood  rushed  to  his  head ; 
he  sat  down  at  the  table  and  dug  his  two  fists  into  his 
eyes  to  master  his  emotion.  Father  in  heaven,  he  did 


Ilonka,  the  Good  227 

love  this  fascinating  coquette  after  all !  He  felt  an  un- 
controllable impulse  to  throw  the  three  Englishmen  out 
and  then,  as  a  punishment  for  the  pangs  of  jealousy 
she  had  made  him  suffer,  smother  his  beautiful  beloved 
in  his  arms. 

Ilonka  had  finished.  She  unclasped  her  hands, 
stretched  herself,  and  smiled.  Mr.  Crookes  murmured 
quite  softly  to  himself :  "  Very  fine,  indeed !"  The 
two  youngsters  pressed  her  hand  in  silence  and  Florian 
remained  in  his  singular  attitude  at  the  table  without 
stirring.  For  a  few  seconds  all  was  still  in  the  room, — 
then  from  the  other  side  of  the  driveway  were  heard 
distinctly  the  terrible  coughing  of  the  consumptive 
Polish  girl  and  the  loud  weeping  and  wailing  of  her 
mother  and  sister. 

Ilonka  listened  for  a  moment  attentively ;  then,  strik- 
ing her  forehead,  she  said :  "  Oh,  shame  on  us !  It's 
mean!  Here  we  eat  and  drink  and  make  merry  and 
quite  forget  poor  little  sick  girl.  Go,  Florian,  you  must 
be  ashamed,  too.  We'll  take  little  bottle  of  champagne 
over  to  her, —  champagne  is  good  for  chest  and  for 
weakness  and,  well,  fact  is,  champagne  is  for  everything 
good."  Therewith  she  seized  a  half  emptied  cham- 
pagne bottle,  made  a  comprehensive  survey  of  the  table, 
and  put  the  remains  of  the  ham  and  the  caviar  on  a 
plate.  She  made  a  sign  to  Florian  and  they  left  the 
room  together. 

When  they  entered  the  Mikulskas'  room  a  dreadful 
sight  met  their  eyes.  Helena  was  leaning  back  limp  in 
an  old  wicker  chair  and  her  bosom,  the  arm  of  the  chair, 
and  the  floor  at  her  feet  were  stained  with  bright  red 
blood.  Little  Olga  stood  at  her  sister's  side,  trembling 
and  crying;  she  held  a  sponge  in  her  hand  with  which 


228  Florian  Mayr 

she  had  wiped  away  the  blood  from  chin  and  lips ;  the 
mother,  moaning  helplessly,  crouched  in  a  chair  near 
the  fainting  girl  and  wrung  her  hands  and  called  upon 
the  saints. 

Honka  shuddered  at  the  awful  sight  and  for  a  few 
seconds  was  obliged  to  close  her  eyes.  Florian  quickly 
took  the  bottle  and  plate  from  her  hand  until  she  had 
recovered  from  her  momentary  faintness. 

"That's  bad!"  he  whispered  to  her.  "That's  a 
hemorrhage;  the  poor  child  will  scarcely  survive  that. 
I'll  go  for  a  doctor.  You  stay  here  and  see  that  Helena 
is  at  least  undressed  and  put  to  bed.  And  cold  com- 
presses on  her  chest,  do  you  hear  ?  "  He  squeezed  her 
hand  encouragingly  and  rushed  away.  He  ran  up  to 
his  room  to  get  his  hat  and  umbrella,  informed  the 
Crookes  that  the  festivities  must  end,  and  dashed  off  at 
the  top  of  his  speed  for  the  nearest  physician. 

It  was  almost  midnight  when  Florian  reentered  the 
lodgings  of  the  Mikulskas  with  the  doctor  whom  he 
had  been  obliged  to  track  to  his  favorite  restaurant. 
Honka  meanwhile  had  made  herself  useful.  The  sick 
girl  lay  in  bed  swathed  in  cold  bandages  for  which  the 
ice  from  the  champagne  supper  came  in  most  handy. 
The  floor  and  the  wicker  chair  had  been  cleaned  and 
mother  Mikulska,  having  attended  to  this,  did  the  best 
thing  she  could  do :  she  held  her  tongue  and  let  Honka 
have  her  way.  Little  Olga,  quite  tired  out,  had  fallen 
asleep  as  soon  as  she  had  satisfied  her  greedy  hunger 
with  the  remains  of  the  food  that  had  been  intended  for 
her  sister.  In  the  excitement  over  the  violent  coughing 
fit  which  had  tormented  Helena  for  several  hours,  the 
mother  had  forgotten  all  about  supper.  The  physician 
listened  at  Helena's  lungs  and  sounded  her  pitifully 


Ilonka,  the  Good  229 

emaciated  body  most  carefully.  He  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that,  considering  her  general  weakness,  the  pa- 
tient could  scarcely  be  expected  to  recover.  A  repeti- 
tion of  the  hemorrhage  would  be  certain  death.  In  this 
advanced  stage  of  consumption  little  dependence  could 
be  put  upon  the  ordinary  remedies  to  prevent  the  cough 
irritation.  The  slightest  physical  exertion  or  even  men- 
tal excitement  might  render  all  precautions  futile  and 
the  stupidity  of  the  mother  who  might  cause  this  ex- 
citement by  her  moaning  and  wailing  was  one  of  the 
greatest  dangers  the  daughter  had  to  fear.  It  was, 
therefore,  agreed  that  the  mother  should  not  be  told 
the  whole  truth  but  that  it  should  be  thoroughly  im- 
pressed upon  her  that  she  must  obey  implicitly  the  di- 
rections of  the  physician  and  the  two  volunteer  nurses. 

When  the  physician  had  gone,  Florian  and  Ilonka 
disputed  in  noble  emulation  which  of  them  should  un- 
dertake the  first  watch.  Florian  yielded  finally,  for 
Ilonka  insisted  that  she  was  still  very  wide  awake,  and 
promised  to  wake  him  as  soon  as  she  felt  sleepy.  He 
pressed  her  hand  warmly  and  looked  tenderly  into  her 
eyes  as  he  said  good  night.  His  heart  was  so  full  of 
what  he  still  had  to  say  to  her  but  this  was  not  exactly 
the  right  time  to  say  it,  and  so  with  a  sigh  he  post- 
poned it  till  the  morrow  and  crossed  to  his  little  room. 
He  threw  himself  half  dressed  upon  his  bed  and  was 
soon  fast  asleep. 

When  he  awoke  the  sky  was  already  gray.  In  the 
dim  light  of  dawn  he  recognized  his  beloved,  who  stood 
by  his  bedside  and  held  him  tightly  by  the  arm. 

"  Dear  friend,"  said  Ilonka,  smiling  feebly,  "  you  do 
sleep  soundly,  don't  you  ?  Don't  be  angry  because  I 
shook  you, —  I'm  so  very  tired.  Come,  be  good.  Let 


230  Florian  Mayr 

me  sleep  some.  It's  all  'tended  to  over  there.  Poor 
girl  sleeps  very  soft." 

At  last  Florian  comprehended  what  was  required  of 
him.  He  rubbed  his  eyes  again  and  then  sprang  reso- 
lutely to  his  feet.  As  soon  as  his  place  was  vacated, 
Ilonka  sat  down  on  the  bed,  loosened  her  clothes,  un- 
buttoned all  the  buttons  of  her  waist  with  one  jerk,  and 
stretched  herself  out  with  a  sigh  of  relief.  Her  corsets 
she  had  already  taken  off  in  the  room  over  the  way. 
Her  eyes  closed  instantly  and  she  began  to  breathe 
heavily. 

Florian  stood  in  his  shirt-sleeves  in  the  middle  of  the 
room,  combing  his  long  hair  with  his  fingers  and  staring 
at  the  bed.  There  was  a  strangely  tender  feeling  in 
his  heart.  After  his  frivolous  behavior  of  yesterday, 
there  they  now  were  without  any  foolish  shyness,  bound 
together  in  a  good  deed  of  neighborly  love,  intimate  and 
familiar,  like  nothing  so  much  as  a  married  couple  on 
the  best  of  terms.  Had  not  this  night,  strictly  speak- 
ing, brought  them  closer  together  than  the  fleeting  ec- 
stasy of  that  Arcadian  hour  ?  He  really  loved  her  now 
and  felt  sure  the  light  of  returning  day  would  not  bring 
him  another  moral  "  katzen jammer,"  if  he  should  put 
the  momentous  question  at  once.  Quickly  resolved,  he 
knelt  down  at  her  head,  gently  brushed  her  disheveled 
locks  from  her  brow,  kissed  her,  and  whispered :  "  Do 
you  hear  me,  my  treasure  ? " 

She  nodded  her  head  and  he  heard  her  mutter  some- 
thing impatiently. 

"  Tell  me, —  you're  not  angry  with  me  about  yester- 
day, are  you  ?  "  he  continued  in  a  whisper,  undismayed. 
But  with  a  grunt  of  annoyance  she  made  a  move  as  if  to 
turn  her  back  on  him;  he  put  his  arm  around  her  to 


Ilonka,  the  Good  231 

hold  her  fast  and  went  on  earnestly :  "  No,  now  look 
here,  dearest,  you  mustn't  think  I  was  fooling.  See, 
'tisn't  because  I  like  you  just  a  little ;  I  —  I  love  you 
so, —  I'm  a  perfect  fool  about  you, —  honest,  'pon  my 
soul,  I  love  you  so, —  I'd  like  nothing  better  than  to 
have  you  for  my  own  dear  little  wife !  " 

At  this  she  suddenly  opened  her  eyes  and  looked  at 
him  in  astonishment.  She  gave  a  quick  laugh.  "  Ti 
vagy  hobortos!"  she  said  slowly  and  distinctly,  at  the 
same  time  tapping  him  on  his  chest  with  her  forefinger. 

Florian  held  her  hand  tight  and  kissed  it.  "  Ah, 
come  now,  say  it  in  German,"  he  whispered  with  emo- 
tion. "  Does  that  mean :  '  I  love  you  ? '  " 

In  spite  of  her  overwhelming  sleepiness,  Ilonka  had 
to  laugh  aloud.  "  Ho,  is  splendid !  "  she  giggled,  strok- 
ing his  head.  "  No,  dear  friend,  does  not  mean :  '  I 
love  you,' —  that  means :  *  You  are  crazy ! '  " 

Florian  sprang  to  his  feet,  deeply  hurt,  and  cried: 
"  Oh,  don't,  you  ought  to  be  ashamed,  Ilonka !  Is  that 
a  way, —  when  I  mean  it  honest  and, —  ahem,  do  you 
think  I'm  crazy  because  I  want  to  marry  you  ? " 

"  Of  course,  very  crazy !  "  replied  Ilonka  calmly. 
"  Delights  me  awfully  if  you  like  me.  I  like  you,  too, 
because  you  are  dear  good  fellow.  But  when  I  marry,, 
must  be  Count, —  very  rich  and  very,  very,  immensely 
stupid !  Ou-ou-ah-ah-ah-oah." 

After  this  monstrously  long  yawn  she  closed  her  eyes 
and  rolled  over  on  the  other  side. 

For  some  little  time  Florian  stood  with  his  fists 
doubled  up,  motionless  and  frowning  darkly.  Her 
deep  regular  breathing  soon  assured  him  that  his  way- 
ward darling  had  gone  to  sleep.  "  Herrgottheiliges- 
Tcreuzdonnerwetter!  Will  anyone  ever  understand 


232  Florian  Mayr 

womenfolk !  "  lie  exclaimed,  gnashing  his  teeth  angrily. 
Then  he  put  on  his  coat  and  stole  on  tiptoe  from  the 
room.  It  was  in  no  very  philanthropic  mood  that  he 
now  went  to  play  the  good  Samaritan. 

All  three  Mikulskas  were  asleep.  -One  might  have 
thought  that  Helena  was  dead,  she  lay  there  so  pale  and 
still ;  only  a  low  rattle  in  her  chest  showed  that  she  still 
breathed  and  still  needed  the  closest  care.  As  soon  as 
it  was  day  Florian  went  to  his  landlady's  people  to  re- 
late to  them  the  events  of  the  night.  He  had  his  break- 
fast brought  over  to  the  Mikulskas'  so  that  Ilonka  might 
have  her  sleep  out  in  peace.  The  good  landlady  ex- 
pressed her  willingness  to  take  his  place  in  helping  the 
incompetent  Frau  Mikulska ;  Florian  was  thus  enabled 
with  some  degree  of  confidence  to  go  to  Liszt  at  the 
usual  hour. 

He  told  the  Master  what  had  happened  and  Liszt 
offered  to  do  for  the  poor  sick  girl  all  that  money  could 
do.  Too  soon  he  was  to  be  taken  at  his  word  for  Helena 
Mikulska  died  less  than  forty-eight  hours  later  in  conse- 
quence of  a  second  hemorrhage.  Liszt  himself  accom- 
panied the  priest  who  administered  the  viaticum,  prayed 
with  her  family,  and  held  for  a  long  time  the  bony 
hands  of  the  dying  girl,  which  for  so  many  years  had 
worn  themselves  out  in  order  that  some  day  she  might 
exhibit  her  art  to  him.  But  she  had  already  lost  con- 
sciousness ;  —  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  the  Mas- 
ter, whom  she  had  humbly  worshipped,  had  given  her  the 
last  pressure  of  the  hand  could  no  longer  glorify  for  her 
the  parting  from  this  world,  poor  little  martyr  to  her 
art. 

A  simple  funeral  was  arranged  for  at  Liszt's  ex- 
pense, but  simple  though  it  was,  in  Protestant  Weimar 


Honka,  the  Good  233 

it  caused  something  of  a  sensation  by  reason  of  its 
Catholic  display.  The  Master  himself  was  present  and 
no  small  number  of  his  pupils,  besides  a  goodly  group 
of  the  curious. 

Florian  as  a  matter  of  course  had  looked  after  all  the 
details  of  the  funeral,  but  Fraulein  Badacs  also  re- 
mained faithful  to  the  poor  invalid  to  the  last.  Dur- 
ing all  the  days  up  to  the  time  of  the  burial,  Florian 
had  scrupulously  avoided  discussing  with  Ilonka  any- 
thing that  had  no  direct  reference  to  their  charge.  He 
was  still  angry  with  her  on  account  of  the  unpleasant 
language  with  which,  between  laughing  and  even  yawn- 
ing, she  had  repulsed  his  suit.  And  yet  he  was  quite 
unable  to  tear  from  his  soul  his  honest  love  for  her, 
which  struck  deeper  root  from  hour  to  hour  as  he 
watched  the  good  girl  performing  her  difficult  self-im- 
posed duties,  so  faithfully  and  skilfully  at  the  sick 
girl's  side. 

"After  all,  she's  really  a  splendid  woman,"  said 
Florian  more  than  once  by  day  and  by  night  "  The 
devil  knows  why  I  have  to  be  called  crazy  just  because 
I  want  her  for  my  wife !  "  On  the  evening  after  the 
burial  he  resolved  to  have  a  quiet  talk  with  his  beloved 
and  not  allow  himself  to  be  put  off  by  any  stupid  phrase. 
He  would  make  her  show  her  colors  honestly. 

At  seven  that  evening  Florian  rang  at  Fraulein 
Badacs'  door.  The  Fraulein  was  not  at  home,  ex- 
plained the  landlady  in  a  choice  Saxon  dialect. 

"  Then,  will  you  please  tell  her  that  I'll  call  again 
this  evening." 

"  Well,  now,  you  see,  that  won't  do  any  good,"  said 
the  woman  with  an  embarrassed  smile.  "  Fraulein  has 
gone  away, —  on  a  journey." 


234  Florian  Mayr 

"  A  journey !     Where  to  ?  " 

"  Well,  now,  you  see,  I  don't  know  myself.  But  it 
isn't  likely  she's  gone  very  far." 

"Who  went  with  her?"  Florian  himself  did  not 
quite  know  how  he  came  to  ask  such  a  question  but  now 
that  it  was  out  he  awaited  the  answer  with  fear  and 
trembling. 

The  landlady  smiled  shamefacedly,  rubbed  her  bare 
red  arm  with  her  apron,  and  said :  "  Well,  now,  you 
see,  it  must  be  Herr  von  Oettern, —  she's  been  going 
with  him  a  long  time." 

By  the  next  afternoon  everyone  of  the  "  Swarm " 
could  have  told  the  good  Florian  that  Ilonka  Badacs 
had  gone  on  a  little  tour  of  recreation  with  the  irresisti- 
ble Jean  d'Oettern,  the  same  amiable  Jean  d'Oettern 
whom  the  headwaiter  of  the  ll  Erbprinz  "  with  the  in- 
finitely knowing  smile  had  represented  to  be  the  fair 
Hungarian's  masseur. 


CHAPTER  XII 
Wagalaweia 

DURING  the  next  few  days  Pierian  Mayr  went  about 
in  Weimar  like  a  roaring  lion  seeking  whom  he  might 
devour.  Outwardly,  to  be  sure,  he  did  not  roar,  but 
all  the  more  so  within,  and  like  a  Bavarian  lion  too. 
Hitherto  he  had  found  no  place  in  his  hardworking  life 
for  women,  and  now  his  first  experience  with  that  species 
of  mankind  had  to  turn  out  like  this !  He  felt  an  un- 
governable desire  to  assault  somebody,  and,  as  it  was 
unfortunately  not  strict  etiquette  to  lay  hands  upon 
ladies,  Herr  Jean  d'Oettern  seemed  to  him  to  be  the 
next  best  candidate.  He  called  twice  a  day,  rain  or 
shine,  at  the  studio,  and  also  at  the  rooms  of  the  elegant 
young  painter,  always  armed  with  a  dubious  looking 
walking-stick;  but  the  gentleman  was  out  of  town  and 
remained  so,  and  no  one  knew  whither  he  had  gone  or 
when  he  intended  to  return. 

As  Florian  was  obliged  to  renounce  for  the  time  be- 
ing the  luxury  of  thrashing  somebody,  he  endeavored 
at  least  to  make  up  for  it  by  venting  his  spleen  upon 
all  the  members  of  the  "  Swarm  "  whom  he  disliked. 
He  was  no  longer  so  nai've  as  he  had  been  during  the 
first  days  of  his  residence  in  Weimar,  when  he  readily 
accepted  for  good  coin  everything  that  his  genial  com- 
panions told  him  about  themselves  or  others. 

His  eyes  had  been  opened  also  concerning  Ilonka's 
celebrated  round  table  of  all  the  virtues,  the  members 
235 


236  Florian  Mayr 

of  which  were  the  greatest  wind-bags  and  most  im- 
pudent hussies  of  all,  and  the  stories  concerning  the 
illustrious  descent,  fabulous  wealth,  and  mighty  genius 
of  the  different  members  had  proved  to  be  the  purest 
fiction.  So  long  as  he  still  wandered  amongst  these 
sinners  as  the  "  guileless  fool "  he  was  so  indignant  at 
all  the  irregular  relationships  which  bound  together 
male  and  female,  as  well  as  the  running  into  debt  and 
other  outward  signs  of  the  abject  recklessness  of  their 
lives,  that  he  felt  like  warning  his  beloved  Master  from 
consorting  with  such  black  sheep  and  casting  the  whole 
unclean  company  out  of  the  temple;  but  since  he  him- 
self had  tasted  of  the  tree  of  knowledge,  he  had  quietly 
got  rid  of  the  heavy  load  of  stones  which  he  had  hitherto 
carried  about  in  his  pockets  to  cast  at  his  depraved  fel- 
low mortals,  and,  as  callow  youth  is  ever  wont  to  gen- 
eralize upon  its  wee  bit  of  knowledge  and  remodel  in 
the  twinkling  of  an  eye  its  principles  accordingly,  so 
now  the  deeply  injured  Florian  threw  the  responsibility 
for  all  the  short-comings  of  this  earthly  life  upon  the 
"  devil's  brood  of  woman-kind." 

In  particular  there  was  a  pair  of  piano-msenads,  who 
had  already  tried  Liszt's  patience  to  the  utmost  and 
who  regarded  each  other  with  a  jealousy  that  was 
wholly  ridiculous.  Miss  Julia  Robertson  charged 
Fraulein  Dorette  Schonflies  with  having  secured  the 
favor  of  the  great  Master  by  her  underhand  intriguing, 
and  of  having  alienated  his  affections  from  her, 
while  Fraulein  Schonflies  reported  everywhere  that 
Miss  Robertson  had  conducted  herself  towards  the  old 
gentleman  with  such  bold  importunity  that  he  had  re- 
fused to  see  her  except  at  his  general  receptions.  The 
two  young  ladies  spied  upon  each  other  at  every  step 


Wagalaweia  237 

and  exchanged  the  most  edifying  compliments  when- 
ever they  met.  Miss  Eobertson  threatened  to  box 
Fraulein  Schonflies'  ears  publicly,  if  the  latter  should 
ever  again  dare  to  remain  behind  closed  doors  with  the 
Master,  and  Fraulein  Schb'nflies  in  her  turn  prophe- 
sied to  Miss  Eobertson  that  she  would  be  sent  home 
post-haste  before  she  knew  it. 

Fraulein  Schonflies  was  in  the  habit  of  calling  at  the 
Hofgartnerei,  at  least  every  second  day  at  an  hour 
when  Liszt  received  only  his  intimate  friends,  and  of 
asking  him  to  see  her  alone.  In  this  she  was  successful 
once  in  a  fortnight  at  most,  for  she  was  an  extremely 
poor  pianist  and  Liszt  must  have  had  nothing  else  to 
do  if  he  had  been  willing  to  grant  her  private  lessons. 
Her  particular  affectation  was  to  act  like  a  coquettish 
young  girl,  although  she  would  never  see  twenty-five 
again.  She  had  her  dresses  cut  as  short  as  possible  and 
wore  long  blond  braids  tied  with  bows.  Her  childish 
behavior  was  in  perfect  keeping  with  her  manner  of 
dress,  and  amused  Liszt  greatly  if  he  happened  to  be 
in  the  right  mood.  He  needed  only  to  pat  her  cheeks 
and  she  at  once  began  her  bashful  school-girl  comedy 
as  promptly  as  a  trained  poodle  does  his  tricks  at  his 
master's  command.  When  Fraulein  Schonflies  was  not 
received  she  found  all  sorts  of  excuses  for  lingering  as 
long  as  possible  in  the  Hofgartnerei  to  gossip  with  the 
secretary  or  with  Pauline,  the  housekeeper,  in  order 
to  give  the  impression  that  she  had  spent  the  whole  time 
with  Liszt;  for  her  greatest  pleasure  consisted  in  rous- 
ing the  envy  of  her  companions.  Miss  Eobertson  on 
the  other  hand  had  higher  aims.  Even  if  she  could 
not  be  a  second  Countess  d'Agoult  or  a  Princess  Witt- 
genstein, she  would  at  least  leave  her  name  to  posterity 


238  Florian  Mayr 

as  Liszt's  last  confidante,  as  the  enlightened  cherisher 
of  his  last  plans  and  thoughts.  She  was  an  energetic 
person  but  unfortunately  not  sympathetic  to  the  Mas- 
ter, and  he  entertained  no  idea  whatever  of  taking  per- 
sonal advantage  of  her  enthusiastic  devotion.  He  was 
not  even  aware  how  she  dogged  his  every  step  and 
watched  with  ridiculous  jealousy  every  expression  of 
favor  which  he  showed  to  other  young  ladies. 

To  these  two  interesting  young  persons  Florian  Mayr 
now  determined  to  turn  his  affectionate  attention. 
Meeting  Fraulein  Schonflies  one  day  in  the  reception- 
room  when  Liszt  was  at  work  he  requested  her  politely 
but  firmly  to  have  the  goodness  to  take  her  departure 
promptly,  and  not  to  appear  again  until  the  Master 
sent  her  word  that  he  wished  to  see  her ;  and  when  she 
began  with  a  whining  voice  to  make  objections,  he 
seized  her  firmly  by  the  wrist  and  led  her  out  of  the  room. 
Once  outside  she  began  to  weep  and  wail  aloud  in  order 
if  possible  to  attract  Liszt's  attention,  and  Florian  was 
obliged  to  escort  her  downstairs  with  gentle  force. 

A  burst  of  derisive  laughter  greeted  them  when  they 
arrived  in  the  corridor  below.  It  came  from  Miss 
Robertson,  who  had  been  as  usual  lying  in  wait  in  or- 
der to  establish,  watch  in  hand,  the  length  of  time  her 
enemy  remained  with  the  Master. 

Florian  at  once  let  Fraulein  Schonflies  go  and  turned 
his  attention  to  Miss  Robertson,  whom  he  favored  with 
several  compliments  that  evidently  found  enthusiastic 
applause  on  the  part  of  Fraulein  Dorette,  for  she  broke 
into  a  malicious  giggle.  The  two  ladies  then  turned 
their  attention  to  each  other. 

The  result  was   a  most   delightful   screaming   and 


Wagalaweia  239 

shrieking,  into  the  midst  of  which  Florian  in  vain 
launched  his  most  select  explosives,  so  that  finally  there 
•was  nothing  else  to  be  done  but  to  drag  Julia  to  the 
garden  door  and  Dorette  to  the  street  door  and  hasten 
their  exits  with  vigorous  shoves.  The  scene  evidently 
had  its  witnesses  for  on  the  same  evening  all  Weimar 
was  talking  about  it,  and  Miss  Eobertson  had  bought 
a  revolver  at  the  nearest  shop,  and  openly  threatened  to 
shoot  Fraulein  Schonflies,  Herr  Mayr  and  everybody 
else  who  should  dare  to  stand  in  her  way. 

It  goes  almost  without  saying  that  Florian  Mayr, 
as  the  latest  favorite,  was  not  particularly  popular  with 
the  other  Lisztites.  Those  who  accomplished  very  lit- 
tle themselves  excepting  in  conceit  were  the  most  en- 
vious of  his  privileged  position ;  but  as  he  bore  himself 
towards  them  in  no  way  arrogantly,  and  was  pleasant 
enough  on  the  whole,  though  reserved,  towards  his  col- 
leagues, the  slanders  of  the  envious  had  hitherto  not 
been  able  to  harm  him.  The  incident  with  the  two  im- 
portunate young  women  was  naturally  hailed  with  joy 
by  the  whole  pack  of  malicious  back-biters,  and  the  mis- 
understood ones  of  smaller  caliber,  who  pretended  to 
have  been  slighted,  now  rose  with  one  accord  and  con- 
spired against  the  over-weening  favorite,  who  in  their 
opinion  was  to  blame  that  they  were  only  received  by 
the  Master  in  the  general  "  Swarm  "  and  were  not  al- 
lowed the  privilege  of  private  lessons.  Miss  Robertson 
and  Fraulein  Schonflies,  who  had  hitherto  enjoyed  by 
no  means  a  great  measure  of  popularity,  suddenly 
found  themselves  in  possession  of  a  regiment  of  de- 
voted friends  and  eager  champions  of  their  innocence. 
The  enmity  of  the  two  injured  ladies  continued  to 


240  Morian  Mayr 

exist  in  spite  of  this,  for  there  was  neither  a  Robert- 
son party  nor  a  Schonflies  party  but  only  one,  an  anti- 
Mayr  party. 

The  conspirators  resolved  in  the  first  place  to 
encourage  by  every  means  in  their  power  the  antipathy 
to  Florian  Mayr  amongst  all  Liszt  pupils  as  well  as  in 
outside  circles  of  society,  and  search  out  eagerly  for 
dark  spots  in  his  present  and  past  private  life  in  order 
to  accuse  him  to  the  Master  with  success  when  the  op- 
portunity offered. 

But  upon  the  same  day  on  which  Florian  found  two 
such  extremely  worthy  victims  of  his  wrath,  fortune  was 
to  smile  upon  him  once  more.  As  he  called  once 
again  towards  evening  accompanied  by  his  murderous 
walking-stick  at  the  studio  of  Herr  von  Oettern,  he 
heard  at  last  the  words,  "  Come  in !  "  His  heart  beat 
faster.  "  Ha,  the  hour  of  vengeance  had  struck !  " 
Crossing  the  threshold  with  resolute  step,  he  found  him- 
self face  to  face  with  the  celebrated  Don  Juan 
d' Oettern. 

A  devilish  handsome  fellow  he  was  indeed ;  even  the 
tongue  of  envy  had  to  acknowledge  that.  The  slen- 
der, sinuous  figure,  so  elegantly  and  yet  so  comfortably 
dressed,  the  narrow  head,  golden  blond  hair  and  silky 
mustache,  the  finely  chiseled  and  yet  in  no  way  ef- 
feminate face  with  its  wide-awake  eyes,  the  small  well 
cared  for  hands  —  it  was  really  no  wonder  that  the  un- 
conventional young  ladies  of  the  Weimar  musical  world 
fell  in  love  with  him  by  scores.  But  this  rational  con- 
sideration would  by  no  means  have  restrained  the  de- 
termined Florian  from  falling  upon  Jean  d'Oettern 
with  his  fence-rail,  after  a  short  but  luminous  introduc- 
tion, had  unfortunately  a  second  gentleman  not  been 


Wagalaweia  241 

present.  This  gentleman  went  towards  Florian  Mayr 
with  outstretched  hands  before  he  had  time  to  pay  his 
compliments  to  Herr  von  Oettern,  and  exclaimed  gayly, 
"Well,  well,  what's  this?  My  dear  Herr  Mayr!  So 
you  have  finally  landed  in  Weimar  too !  "  and  cleverly 
imitating  Liszt's  tone  of  voice,  he  added,  "  pchah !  — 
bravo !  "  Florian  was  thrown  a  little  off  his  equipoise 
by  this  unforeseen  interruption  of  his  programme. 
With  his  silk  hat  in  one  hand  and  his  big  stick  in  the 
other  he  stared  dubiously  at  the  tall  man  with  the  auburn 
beard,  and  this  gentleman  was  obliged  to  remind  him 
that  they  had  spent  a  very  merry  night  together  after 
the  performance  of  Peter  Gais's  Satan  before  he  was 
conscious  that  he  stood  in  the  presence  of  Baron  von 
Eied.  "Well,  I  see,  you've  become  good  friends  al- 
ready," remarked  the  baron  after  the  introduction,  nod- 
ding towards  Florian  who  still  stood  in  an  attitude  of 
embarrassment. 

"  Friends  ?  I  beg  pardon,  that's  hardly  the  case, 
I'm  very  sorry  to  say,"  replied  Herr  von  Oettern,  with 
a  slightly  ironical  smile,  as  it  seemed  to  Florian.  "  I 
know  Herr  Mayr  by  sight  and  of  course  par 
renommee  —  but  then  you  know  —  Coryphaeus  of  the 
new  season.  Enfant  gate.  Of  course!  But  I 
haven't  yet  had  the  honor  of  a  visit.  Won't  you  lay 
aside  your  things,  Herr  Mayr  ?  " 

With  that  he  took  Florian's  hat  and  stick  out  of  his 
hand  to  carry  them  to  the  coat-rack  near  the  iron  stove. 
The  gnarled  walking-stick  attracted  his  attention.  He 
examined  it,  held  it  up  to  the  light,  tried  a  few  passes 
through  the  air  with  it  and  then  remarked,  addressing 
both  of  his  callers,  "  Very  extraordinary  stick.  Ger- 
man grape-vine,  isn't  it  ?  Ah,  parbleu,  c'est  une  drole 


242  Florian  Mayr 

de  canne!  1830-50!  Are  you  going  to  introduce  that 
fashion  again  ?  Why  not  ?  Bravo !  " 

In  this  simple  manner  Florian  found  himself  dis- 
armed. It  would  certainly  not  do  to  take  the  stick  out 
of  Oettern's  hands  again  and  say,  "  No,  excuse  me,  my 
dear  fellow,  not  in  order  to  introduce  the  fashion  of 
1830  but  in  order  to  give  you  a  good  thrashing, —  that's 
the  reason  I  have  brought  it  along !  "  Quite  true,  but 
what  did  he  want  here  then,  if  he  had  given  up  all  idea 
of  the  thrashing  ?  He  was  not  yet  advanced  enough  in 
savoir-faire  to  have  the  assurance  to  make  calls  upon 
celebrities  without  any  introduction  whatever.  But 
Herr  von  Oettern  seemed  to  be  accustomed  to  visits  of 
that  kind,  for  he  made  no  inquiries  concerning  the  ob- 
ject of  Florian's  calL 

It  was  really  a  happy  chance  that  had  led  Baron 
von  Hied  hither.  He  started  a  conversation  which  at 
once  relieved  Florian  from  his  embarrassment.  They 
spoke  about  musical  life  in  Berlin,  and  proceeded  to  a 
general  consideration  of  the  development  of  the  mod- 
ern German  school,  and  of  the  relation  of  this  new  de- 
velopment to  that  of  the  other  arts.  It  was  Baron  von 
Ried  who  sketched  the  general  outlines  of  the  discus- 
sion, and  threw  out  the  theoretical  opinions,  while  Herr 
von  Oettern  interjected  all  manner  of  striking  observa- 
tions and  illustrative  anecdotes.  He  had  been  every- 
where, he  had  seen  and  heard  well  nigh  everything  of 
importance  that  had  taken  place  in  the  arts,  was  per- 
sonally acquainted  with  a  great  number  of  modern  celeb- 
rities and  was  extremely  well  informed,  particularly 
in  regard  to  French  art  and  literature,  having  been 
educated  for  the  most  part  in  Paris  where  he  had  be- 
come quite  at  home. 


Wagalaweia  243 

Florian  found  it  a  little  difficult  at  first  to  follow 
his  peculiar,  spasmodic,  sometimes  almost  stuttering 
and  at  the  same  time  rapid  manner  of  speech.  He 
often  left  a  sentence  quite  unfinished  and  suggested  the 
conclusion  only  by  a  word  or  by  a  gesture,  accompanied 
by  an  explanatory  exclamation.  Sometimes  he  seemed 
to  stop  listening  entirely  and  would  go  to  the  picture 
which  he  happened  to  be  painting  and  add  a  few  bold 
strokes  or  he  would  run  to  the  piano  and  play,  without 
sitting  down,  a  few  measures  of  Wagner,  Liszt,  or 
Chopin  with  oddly  eccentric  rhythm  but  always  bring- 
ing out  the  characteristic  figure.  The  whole  literature 
of  modern  music  lay  heaped  in  great  piles  upon  the 
piano  and  upon  its  costly  embroidered  silk  cover. 

The  man  and  his  environment  fitted  together  wonder- 
fully. His  studio  was  a  small  museum  of  treasures  of 
art  and  literature  from  the  period  of  Louis  XV.  to  that 
of  the  Empire.  Over  the  false  fire-place,  upon  the 
shelf  of  which  stood  a  pair  of  large  Chinese  vases  with 
dry  bamboo  fronds,  hung  a  magnificent  Gobelin  cov- 
ering nearly  the  entire  wall.  On  the  other  walls  hung 
pictures  by  Jean  d'Oettern  himself,  as  well  as  older 
paintings,  mostly  of  the  French  school,  amongst  them 
several  of  the  most  celebrated  masters.  The  furniture 
was  Louis  XVI.  and  Empire.  Book-cases  of  dark 
mahogany  with  bronze  mountings  were  filled  with  the 
most  select  works  of  French  literature  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  amongst  them  a  large  number  of  costly  illus- 
trated works  and  rarities,  particularly  in  the  field  of 
litterature  gala/nie,  all  in  old  de  luxe  bindings.  Upon 
a  revolving  table  stood  a  glass  case  containing  all  kinds 
of  costly  things,  such  as  cut  stones,  cameos,  enameled 
boxes,  painted  fans,  coins  and  the  like,  and  upon  tables, 


244  Florian  Mayr 

etageres  and  stands  and  upon  velvet  mats  in  shallow 
glass  cases,  a  lot  of  other  smaller  articles  of  miniature 
art.  The  furniture,  as  well  as  the  numerous  comforta- 
ble cushions,  were  upholstered  in  real  old  silks,  while 
the  other  articles  of  furniture,  especially  a  large  writ- 
ing-desk, were  of  mahogany  with  bronze  mountings  in 
the  Empire  style.  All  the  other  colors  were  har- 
moniously subdued,  with  nowhere  a  parvenu  striving 
after  effect  These  rare  things  were  intended  to  de- 
light the  hearts  of  connoisseurs  and  not  to  catch  the  eye 
of  indifferent  gapers  by  their  evident  costliness. 

The  spirit  of  comprehensive  knowledge  which  the 
room  breathed  was  relieved  of  its  dusty  heaviness  by 
artistic  gayety,  or  one  might  also  say  the  spirit  of 
frivolity,  ennobled  by  exquisite  taste.  During  the  con- 
versation Florian  several  times  changed  his  seat  in  or- 
der to  examine  these  beautiful  things  and  Herr  von 
Oettern  most  obligingly  got  out  every  article  which  he 
saw  Florian  looking  at  and  favored  him  with  a  de- 
scription of  it.  It  was  said  of  Herr  von  Oettern  in 
Weimar  that  even  the  most  elegant  and  exclusive  ladies 
were  unable  to  resist  him,  if  they  had  passed  but  one 
half  hour  in  his  studio  and  looked  through  his  books 
with  him,  and  had  studied  attentively  certain  of  his 
miniature  paintings  on  porcelain  and  ivory.  Of  course 
that  was  the  clumsiest  kind  of  calumny,  for  Jean  d' Oet- 
tern was  much  too  great  an  enemy  of  coarse  scandal, 
as  well  as  of  its  uncomfortable  and  dramatic  conse- 
quences, ever  to  approach  a  representative  of  those  cir- 
cles in  which  ladies  without  ties  are  not  conceivable. 
But  although  the  feelings  of  an  elegant  young  lady  were 
unfamiliar  to  no  one  so  much  as  to  our  honest  Florian 
Mayr,  nevertheless  he,  too,  felt  in  his  own  heart  the  ir- 


Wagalaweia  245 

resistibleness  of  tlie  young  painter.  He  experienced 
quite  the  same  uneasiness  as  any  simple  mortal  feels 
who  dines  for  the  first  time  at  the  table  of  a  sovereign, 
but  with  the  difference  that  in  this  case  the  uneasiness 
was  mixed  with  a  fair  portion  of  aesthetic  enjoyment 
of  the  delicacies  that  were  on  this  gentleman's  table. 

Curiously  enough,  he  felt  no  such  uneasiness  with 
Baron  von  Kied,  who,  he  thought,  would  make  a  jolly 
companion  on  a  walking  tour.  He,  too,  possessed  the 
most  aristocratic  manners,  and  he  yielded  nothing  in 
education,  and  perhaps  not  in  taste,  to  Herr  von 
Oettern.  But  even  on  short  acquaintance  one  felt  his 
shirt-sleeve  temperament,  that  is,  he  was  uncomfortable 
in  any  kind  of  society  disguise,  even  though  he  knew 
how  to  wear  it  with  grace,  and  his  impetuous  vitality 
loved  best  to  walk  abroad,  naked  in  the  sunshine.  It 
was  characteristic  of  him  that  while  in  conversation  he 
avoided  all  the  brutalities  of  the  "  mighty  geniuses," 
his  nature  was  nevertheless  tempered  with  a  refreshing 
lack  of  prejudice  and  prudery  that  stamped  him  at  once 
as  a  productive  man  of  the  time. 

He  could  not  be  put  into  any  party  programme,  he 
felt  no  respect  whatever  for  the  venerable  dryasdust 
wisdom  of  tradition  nor  for  the  catch-phrases  of  the 
day.  He  knew  much  and  took  a  lively  interest  in 
everything  that  set  the  minds  of  men  a-working  in 
these  days  of  intellectual  ferment.  His  opinions  came 
out  bold  and  sharp,  but  at  the  same  time  he  listened 
to  the  exceptions  of  others  and  was  very  willing  to  be 
convinced  by  good  arguments.  They  are  rare  —  men 
who  are  open  to  conviction!  They  are  set  down  as 
weak  characters.  That's  why  they  are  so  unwilling  to 
be  convinced ! 


246  Florian  Mayr 

"  Do  you  know/'  said  the  baron  in  the  course  of  the 
conversation,  "  I  really  hate  music,  because  it  absorbs 
every  artistic  instinct  of  the  million  at  the  expense  of 
serious  arts.  ^Nowadays  the  educated  classes  use  up 
so  much  nerve-power  and  brain-oil  in  their  feverish 
struggle  for  life,  that  they  refuse  to  subject  their  brains 
to  any  effort  in  the  appreciation  of  art,  if  indeed  they 
feel  any  desire  for  it  at  alL  That  is  the  reason  why  so 
few  people  take  any  interest  in  literature.  All  of  us 
who  live  in  the  present  and  no  longer  play  with  old 
dolls  —  we  all  are  trying  so  sincerely  to  grapple  with 
the  great  questions  of  the  day,  to  delineate  modern 
man,  this  bundle  of  nerves  wrapped  in  epidermis  —  a 
terrible  example, —  to  reform  our  customs,  and  I  don't 
know  what.  We  are  fanatic  Lenten-preachers,  devil- 
painters  and  candle-lighters, —  but  the  dear  good  peo- 
ple will  not  come  to  our  churches,  will  hear  nothing  of 
our  deviltries,  and  shade  their  eyes  from  our  candles 
with  both  hands.  Anything  but  seeing,  anything  but 
thinking!  But  words  mean  that  one  has  to  think, — 
therefore  away  with  the  art  of  words !  So  now  they 
all  lie  on  their  bellies  before  music.  How  blissfully  it 
rocks  their  thoughts  to  sleep:  Wagalaweia!  How  it 
warms  into  life  the  dormant  emotions  of  the  most  slug- 
gish of  vertebrates:  HojotoTio!  How  softly  and 
gently  it  croons, —  if  necessary  one  can  think  of  some- 
thing when  one  listens,  but  it's  not  actually  necessary  — 
weiala-walalorweia!  The  sigh  and  the  tingle,  those 
are  the  fundamental  elements  of  music.  Its  actual 
clearness  hardly  goes  beyond  that.  It  is  therefore  a  lyric 
art  consisting  only  of  exclamation-points  and  dashes. 
To  be  sure  our  latest  school  of  composition  understands 
description  also,  but  after  all  it  is  the  same  simple  ele- 


Wagalaweia  247 

mentary  actions  that  it  is  able  to  interpret  intelligently : 
storm  and  thunder,  the  murmur  of  forest  and  sea,  and 
a  few  other  general  manifestations  of  nature.  But  the 
rest  of  it  is  all  —  Wagalaweia,  elemental  ooze  of  feel- 
ing !  We  ought  really  to  inscribe  Wagalaweia  over  the 
doors  of  all  our  conservatories  of  music.  And  Wag- 
alaweia is  perhaps  the  most  graphic  German  equivalent 
for  the  foreign  word,  music.  Only  the  articulate  word 
can  give  to  the  primal  ooze  of  tones  the  skeleton  through 
which  tones  acquire  shape ;  and  when  the  bones  are  not 
so  very  hard,  as  with  Master  Wagner,  they  are  soft- 
ened and  crumbled  and  eaten  away  by  the  insidious 
slime  of  the  tones.  Music  is  a  jelly-fish,  driven  about 
by  the  waves  and  glistening  in  gorgeous  iridescence,  a 
joy  to  the  senses;  but  at  the  bottom  only  a  formless 
incomprehensibility,  a  shapeless  digestive  apparatus, 
that  insatiably  drags  every  living  thing  into  its  slimy 
embrace  and  sucks  the  nourishing  marrow  of  its  being 
out  of  it.  Music  —  water-pest  —  Wagalaweia  !  " 

Herr  von  Oettern  sat  down  on  his  piano-stool, 
slapped  his  thigh  and  shook  with  laughter  at  the  ex- 
uberant throng  of  original  metaphors  which  the  baron 
unloaded  in  his  righteous  enthusiasm. 

"  Water-pest  —  bravo !  Jellyfish  —  charming !  Wa- 
galaweia —  primal  ooze  —  immense !  My  dear  friend, 
may  I  offer  you  a  drink  on  that  ?  Three  Star  brandy, 
or  chartreuse  —  green  —  stimulates  digestion !  " 

He  got  out  a  silver  salver  with  high  edges,  upon 
which  stood  several  cut  glass  decanters  which  had  round 
their  necks  little  silver  shields  bearing  the  names  of  the 
best  known  cordials. 

The  baron  was  by  no  means  put  out  by  this  raillery 
and  laughingly  helped  himself.  Florian,  too,  could  not 


248  Florian  Mayr 

resist  a  glass  of  brandy,  but  he  could  not  bear  to  have  the 
baron's  fascinating  discourse  choked  off  with  a  jest. 

"  I  don't  quite  understand,"  he  observed,  continuing 
the  discussion,  "how  you,  Baron,  of  all  persons,  can 
make  such  an  attack  on  music,  for  I've  heard  say  that 
you  were  a  composer  yourself,  and  without  any  doubt 
you  are  a  great  music-lover,  and  more  than  that,  one 
who  knows  something  about  it,  too." 

"  Yes,  assuredly  I  am,"  replied  the  baron.  "  Music 
is  one  of  the  necessities  of  my  existence  just  the  same 
as  —  well,  let  us  say,  for  example,  love.  You  see,  peo- 
ple like  us  three  here  stand  in  quite  a  different  relation 
to  music  from  that  of  the  great  mass  of  the  people  who 
crowd  the  concert-halls  and  have  their  daughters  in- 
structed in  the  pianoforte.  It  affords  us  the  only  pos- 
sible gratification  of  our  great  longing  for  absolute 
beauty.  All  the  other  arts,  which  are  compelled  to 
copy  nature  and  to  portray  the  irreconcilable  contrasts, 
the  deformities  and  brutalities  of  reality,  can  never  at- 
tain to  pure  beauty.  Nor  can  they  ever  so  emancipate 
the  world  of  sensation  from  its  material  conditions,  that 
an  encumbering  bit  of  earth  will  not  remain.  We  poor 
poets  and  scholars  of  to-day,  who  have  to  wrestle  so 
desperately  with  reality,  who  struggle  along  under  the 
burden  of  knowledge  of  thousands  of  years  and  yet 
strive  persistently  to  increase  that  knowledge, —  we  cry 
out  with  especial  vehemence  for  emancipation  from 
reality,  and  find  it  to  be  an  unspeakable  relief,  if  we 
may  entirely  free  ourselves  from  the  ban  of  knowl- 
edge and  bathe  in  the  pure  fountain  of  sensation.  That 
is  what  music  affords  us, —  I  mean  of  course  the  music 
that  begins  with  the  later  Beethoven.  This  music 
strengthens  us,  as  well  as  the  genuine  musician,  who  has 


Wagalaweia  249 

got  to  be  a  chap  over  lifesize  nowadays,  if  he  wants  to 
make  a  name  for  himself.  But  now  just  consider  for 
a  moment  our  music-makers  and  our  musical  public. 
Where  amongst  them  will  you  find  anything  of  that 
emancipating,  strength-stimulating  influence,  that  music 
exerts  upon  us  thinking  beings  ?  Liszt  and  Wagner 
have  bred  the  splendid  species  of  universally  educated 
German  orchestral  conductors.  Take  a  man  like 
Billow,  for  example.  He  is  a  new,  unheard  of,  ab- 
solutely original  product,  of  which  our  fin-de-siecle  cul- 
ture may  well  be  proud.  But  the  general  run  of  music- 
folk —  brrr!  I  don't  believe  that  the  average  talents 
of  any  other  art  can  show  anywhere  near  so  much  stupid 
conceit,  general  imbecility,  shallow-pated  bigotry,  and 
odious  defects  of  character  like  envy  and  spite, —  as 
music  can.  The  insignificant,  mediocre  painter  or 
sculptor  is  nearly  always  a  pleasant,  amusing  chap. 
The  unrecognized  author,  to  be  sure,  is  a  perfectly 
frightful  bore,  malicious,  bitter,  and  more  given  to  go- 
ing to  the  devil  than  the  rest,  but  at  least  he  has  many- 
sided  interests ;  one  can  manage  to  talk  with  the  brute, 
in  fact  get  something  profitable  out  of  him  sometimes. 
On  the  other  hand  intercourse  with  a  musician  of  the 
inferior  class  is  apt  to  be  impossible  for  a  man  of  cul- 
ture." 

"  By  the  Lord,  you're  right  there,"  exclaimed 
Florian,  clenching  his  fist  wrathfully. 

But  the  baron  would  not  be  interrupted ;  he  had  got 
fairly  going.  His  face  glowed  and  his  eyes  flashed  be- 
hind his  gold  spectacles. 

"  And  what  do  you  suppose  drives  our  upper  ten 
thousand  to  the  concert-halls  ?  "  he  continued  earnestly. 
"  What  makes  them  swallow  ancient  art  and  modern  art, 


250  Florian  Mayr 

good  and  bad,  paltry  virtuoso-trivialities  as  well  as  the 
revelations  of  the  great  masters,  with  equal  satisfaction  ? 
I  say  it  is  the  facility  of  the  enjoyment;  one  doesn't 
have  to  think  —  that's  what  makes  them  like  music  and 
so  much!  It  is  taken  as  a  nerve-stimulant,  like  tea, 
coffee,  and  tobacco.  And  then  it  is  so  easy  to  prattle 
wisely  about  it.  Ideas  about  music  are  difficult  to 
bring  to  book;  that's  why  the  superficial  mind  can  so 
easily  make  believe  when  it  prates  of  music.  And  then 
again,  the  personality  of  the  executing  artist  plays  such 
an  important  part  in  music.  That's  what  makes  women 
in  particular  wild  about  it.  They  nearly  always  for- 
get the  work  for  the  individual  soloist  or  conductor  who 
interprets  it.  And,  as  in  matters  of  art,  men  are  wont 
to  feel  and  judge  more  womanly  than  women,  with  us 
in  Germany  especially,  we  find  vanity  at  the  highest 
premium  in  the  musical  world.  And  one  thing  more, 
if  you  please:  the  expression  of  interest  in  music  can 
never  compromise  us.  One  may  even  be  a  Wagner  en- 
thusiast and  still  have  a  cousin  in  the  Guards  and  an 
uncle  in  the  Cabinet!  It  is  not  to  be  denied  that  the 
colossal  social  contrasts  of  our  time  have  produced,  in 
our  ruling  classes,  a  fear  of  the  unshackling  of  new 
forces  that  has  led  to  the  tacit  formation  on  the  part  of 
these  ruling  classes  of  a  ring  for  defense  against  free 
thought  —  for  we  know  well  enough  that  he  who  once 
takes  up  with  that  is  apt  to  suffer  disagreeble  conse- 
quences !  But  a  vigorous  modern  literature  cannot 
elude  these  consequences,  nor  honest  science  either,  and 
even  the  plastic  arts  are  easily  infected  with  the  spirit 
of  revolution.  And  of  course  pious  subjects  of  His 
Majesty  and  prudent  aspirants  refuse  to  have  anything 
to  do  with  such  art  and  such  science,  and  for  that  rea- 


Wagalaweia  251 

BOH  they  turn  for  their  intellectual  recreation  to  music, 
which  cannot  be  political  if  it  tries.  Our  whole  weak- 
nerved,  emasculated,  thought-lazy,  pusillanimous  so- 
ciety satisfies  its  mite  of  artistic  craving  with  music. 
And  then  again  there  are  the  strong  ones  to  whom 
music  is  really  a  necessity  and  a  delight  —  a  vast  pub- 
lic indeed !  The  strong  enjoy  music  with  discrimina- 
tion and  extract  from  it  increase  of  strength;  but  the 
weak,  the  great  mass  of  concert-goers,  devour  it  in- 
discriminately, just  as  the  subscribers  to  a  circulating 
library  do  their  literary  fodder,  and  I  maintain  that,  so 
far  as  these  are  concerned,  music  dilutes  their  sluggish 
blood,  yes,  and  thickens  the  few  brains  they  have  be- 
sides. This  music  cult  is  simply  a  disease  of  modern 
civilization,  like  the  anaemia  of  our  young  women  and 
the  nervous  prostration  of  our  mental  workers.  I  pro- 
pose that  we  dub  this  disease,  '  Wagalaweia ! '  " 

Florian  sprang  from  his  seat  and  shook  the  baron 
by  the  hand. 

"  You  speak  right  from  my  very  soul !  "  he  cried  out 
with  enthusiasm.  "  Just  think,  at  first  I  had  intended 
to  be  a  physician  —  and  now  I'm  going  to  live  on  the 
disease  of  my  fellow  mortals  after  all.  it  must  lie  in 
my  blood  —  I  say,  Baron,  why  don't  you  have  that 
printed?" 

"  Done  so  already,  but  it's  no  use ;  you  can't  cure 
symptoms.  Do  pardon  me,  boys,  for  spouting  such  a 
leading  article  at  you;  only  in  my  opinion  people  of 
like  sentiments  ought  to  make  themselves  clear  to  one 
another.  But  now  let's  talk  about  something  else !  —  I 
say,  Herr  Mayr,  do  you  know  that  the  whole  Berlin 
pack  that  we  met  at  Raphael  Silberstein's  is  coming 
to  Weimar  for  the  Saint  Elizabeth?  Gais  and  his 


252  Florian  Mayr 

hangers-on,  Tomatschek  with  his  daughter  and  —  well, 
two  or  three  more  wonderful  people !  " 

"  Haven't  you  —  improved  Fraulein  Tomatschek 
yet  ?  "  inquired  Florian  with  a  laugh. 

"  Alas  no,  not  yet !  "  replied  the  baron.  "  I  should 
have  to  intrust  her  to  my  friend,  Oettern.  By  the  way, 
that  reminds  me, —  how  is  that  splendid  girl,  Ilonka 
Badacs,  getting  on  ?  Do  you  remember  how  we  laughed 
that  evening?" 

The  baron  said  this  in  the  most  natural  manner  and 
failed  to  notice  the  sign  his  friend,  Oettern,  made  him 
with  his  eyebrows.  Florian's  face,  however,  suddenly 
turned  scarlet  and  his  hands  icy  cold. 

"  Hm !  "  he  faltered,  "  on  that  subject,  Baron,  you 
will  have  to  consult  your  friend !  " 

Herr  von  Hied  gave  a  long  whistle,  "  Aha !  —  une  de 
plus! "  and  he  shook  his  finger  banteringly  at  Jean 
d'Oettern.  D'Oettern  quietly  lighted  a  fresh  cigarette 
and  played  a  few  chords  on  the  piano  with  his  right 
hand.  Then  he  glanced  over  his  shoulder  at  Florian 
with  a  good-humored  smile  and  said,  "  A  slander —  a 
miserable  slander!  You  know  Fraulein  Badacs. 
Well,  we  are  old  friends  —  you  are  new  friends  — 
that's  the  whole  difference !  So  —  of  course  —  discre- 
tion for  granted  — !  But  she's  charming  —  what  can 
one  expect  ?  Quite  right !  And  she  adores  you  —  she 
praises  you  to  the  skies.  Your  kind  heart  and  all 
that  —  I  quite  understand !  " 

The  disconnected  words  and  phrases  smote  Florian's 
ear  without  his  being  able  to  grasp  their  meaning.  He 
was  only  conscious  of  being  red  in  the  face  and  that  he 
would  make  himself  very  ridiculous  if  he  should  begin 
to  be  quarrelsome  now.  He  therefore  pretended  to  have 


Wagalaweia  253 

no  more  time  to  spare  and  took  a  somewhat  precipitate 
leave. 

Herr  von  Oettern  handed  him  his  hat  as  well  as  his 
"  German  grape-vine "  and  with  consummate  polite- 
ness invited  him  to  repeat  his  call  at  an  early  date. 
Florian  made  an  agreement  with  the  baron  to  meet  in 
the  "  Genelli-Eoom "  of  the  "Adler"  inn  where  a 
number  of  artists  and  litterateurs  were  accustomed  to 
foregather  every  evening,  and  then  with  a  couple  of 
awkward  bows,  he  made  his  exit  from  the  studio,  which 
he  had  entered  as  the  ferocious  avenger  of  his 
honor. 

He  had  passed  a  stimulating  hour  in  which  he  had  re- 
newed one  agreeable  acquaintance  and  made  another 
not  less  valuable.  And  in  spite  of  this  he  was  dissat- 
isfied with  himself  and  precisely  in  the  mood  to  make 
up  for  the  one  victim  that  had  escaped  him  by  looking 
up  a  number  of  others  for  his  cudgel.  As  he  came 
to  the  door  of  his  house,  he  even  deliberated  for  a  mo- 
ment whether  he  should  not,  for  some  reason  or  other, 
give  Mr.  Crookes  a  good  thrashing.  The  Englishman 
had  angered  him  not  a  little  by  his  refusal  to  do  any- 
thing for  the  Mikulskas,  on  the  flimsy  ground  that  the 
banquet,  which  had  been  so  tragically  interrupted,  had 
cost  him  enough  already.  They  had  not  even  left  him 
the  rest  of  the  champagne,  and,  more  than  that,  his 
boys  had  been  unruly  ever  since  that  evening.  A  dis- 
position of  that  kind  seemed  to  Florian  to  merit  a  good 
sound  thrashing  without  any  doubt;  but,  after  all,  it 
would  come  in  this  case  altogether  too  post  festum, 
as  poor  Helena  had  now  been  buried  for  over  a  week. 
And  besides  Dick  and  Bob  had  attached  themselves  to 
him  so  closely  during  the  last  few  days,  and  he  could 


254  Florian  Mayr 

not  very  well  repay  their  affection  by  thrashing  their 
father. 

Suddenly  he  thumped  himself  on  the  head  and  with 
a  loud  voice  called  himself  an  ass.  In  his  blind  fury 
he  had  been  entertaining  the  wildest  ideas  instead  of 
simply  proceeding  to  the  chastisement  of  the  chief  sin- 
ner, Ilonka  Badacs ! 

IVaulein  Badacs  was  not  at  home.  However,  as  the 
landlady  knew  Herr  Mayr  well,  she  did  not  hesitate 
to  allow  him  to  wait  in  Ilonka's  room.  But  before  he 
had  been  there  five  minutes  he  became  so  impatient 
that  he  could  not  stand  it  any  longer.  Besides  he  was 
possessed  by  a  vague  fear  that  the  naughty  Ilonka 
might  easily  be  as  successful  as  her  aristocratic  friend 
in  disarming  his  wrath  by  pure  affability.  She  could 
be  so  very  nice  sometimes,  and  if  she  should  take  it 
into  her  head  to  cry  —  Oh,  heavens,  then  it  would  be  all 
up  with  his  indignation !  So  he  pulled  out  of  the  disor- 
derly accumulation  of  small  articles  lying  about  a  sheet 
of  paper  and  an  envelope,  and  set  forth  his  opinions 
thereon  in  writing.  His  pen  fairly  flew,  for  he  had 
his  opinions  well  in  hand  and  he  had  no  intention  what- 
ever of  disguising  them.  He  therefore  wrote  the 
young  lady  exactly  what  he  thought  of  her,  and  that  he 
would  under  no  circumstances  continue  to  give  her 
lessons,  or  consort  with  her  on  any  other  footing  than 
that  of  the  most  formal  politeness.  This  he  expressed 
in  language  that  was  most  certainly  neither  parliamen- 
tary nor  fit  to  print,  and  that  one  might  best  describe 
by  the  word  "  cudgel-prose."  Without  even  reading 
the  letter  over  he  thrust  it  into  the  envelope,  wrote  the 
address,  and  then  went  his  way  in  content. 

He  spent  a  very  animated  evening  in  the  famous 


Wagalaweia  255 

"  Genelli-Room  "  of  the  old  "  Adler  "  inn,  where,  be- 
sides Baron  von  Hied,  he  met  a  small  circle  of  more 
or  less  interesting  men,  among  whom  the  celebrated 
old  actor,  Otto  Lehfeld,  was  undoubtedly  the  most  re- 
markable. The  old  gentleman  related  anecdotes  of  the- 
atrical life,  racy,  it  is  true,  but  nevertheless  pungently 
humorous,  and  he  told  them  so  extremely  well  that  the 
company  did  not  stop  laughing  for  hours.  That  night 
Florian  slept  soundly  and  was  awakened  next  morning 
by  his  own  laughter,  one  of  Lehfeld's  delicious  anec- 
dotes occurring  to  him  in  that  state  of  semi-conscious- 
ness that  is  wont  to  precede  the  moment  of  awakening. 

He  presented  himself  to  the  Master  at  the  usual  hour 
in  the  best  of  spirits.  But  Liszt  did  not  receive  him 
as  cordially  as  usual.  He  was  monosyllabic  and  his 
noble  brow  was  clouded.  A  manuscript  score  lay  be- 
fore him  but  he  was  not  looking  at  it,  but  gazing  medi- 
tatively over  it  into  space.  Then  he  suddenly  slammed 
the  score  to,  shoved  it  aside  and  took  a  letter  from  the 
writing-desk,  which  he  handed  to  Florian  opened. 

"  There  —  pchah !  What  does  that  mean,  my  son  ?  " 
he  inquired  reproachfully.  With  astonishment  Flor- 
ian recognized  his  own  letter  that  he  had  written  only 
the  evening  before  to  his  faithless  inamorata.  He  laid 
it  down  on  the  table  again  slowly  and  stammered  in 
confusion,  "  I  only  wanted  ...  I  was  so  furious  — 
I  simply  cannot  stand  this  immoral  wallowing !  " 

"  Nonsense !  "  exclaimed  Liszt,  knitting  his  brows. 
"Does  one  write  to  a  lady  like  that?  For  shame!" 
And  he  tore  the  letter  into  small  pieces  and  threw  them 
angrily  into  the  waste-paper  basket. 

"  Oh,  Master,  you  don't  know  — "  began  Florian, 
but  he  did  not  finish  the  sentence.  The  bitter  pain  that 


256  Morian  Mayr 

his  own  fall  and  the  destruction  of  all  his  youthful  illu- 
sions had  given  him,  once  more  became  hot  anguish 
in  his  soul.  His  eyes  filled  with  tears.  He  sank  into 
the  nearest  chair,  turned  his  face  in  shame  from  his 
beloved  Master,  and  bit  his  lips,  in  order  not  to  sob 
aloud. 

Then  Liszt  went  up  to  him,  stroked  his  hair  sooth- 
ingly and  said,  "  Oh,  come  now,  du  courage,  mon  enfant ! 
Come,  tell  me  all  about  it,  my  dear  boy ! " 

Florian  turned  quickly  and  kissed  the  old  man's 
kindly  hand.  And  then  he  confessed.  He  told  how 
morally  pure  and  even  austere  he  was  when  he  had 
come  to  Weimar,  and  how  the  dissolute  behavior  of  the 
"  Swarm  "  had  filled  him  with  righteous  indignation. 
And  then  he  admitted  with  flaming  cheeks  how  he  had 
stupidly  swallowed  all  the  lies  the  merry  crew  had 
dished  up  for  him ;  how  he  had  fallen  more  and  more 
in  love  with  his  piquant  pupil,  until  at  last,  in  delicious 
intoxication,  he  had  become,  through  knowledge,  like 
the  rest ;  how  his  conscience  had  smote  him ;  and  how 
he  determined  honestly  to  expiate  his  fault  and  make 
himself  happy  at  the  same  time, —  and  then  at  last  the 
bitter  disappointment!  He  was  brought  up  to  hard 
knocks  and  knew  no  other  way  to  resent  the  insult  to 
his  ideals  than  to  use  violence,  or  at  least,  abusive  lan- 
guage. 

When  Florian  had  finished  his  confession,  Liszt  gazed 
for  a  long  while  out  of  the  window  and  mused.  Then 
he  turned  round  again  with  a  smile,  and,  laying  his 
hand  on  Florian' s  shoulder,  said: 

"  I  believe  you  are  the  first  pupil  of  this  sort  that  I 
ever  had.  The  "guileless  fool" — Parsifal  —  bravo! 
J5ut  my  son,  when  one  thinks  and  feels  like  that,  it 


Wagalaweia  257 

makes  life  too  unhappy,  and  that  is  not  necessary. 
Furthermore,  you  are  unjust  to  the  others  when  you 
condemn  them  so  absolutely,  merely  because  they  un- 
derstand love  in  their  own  way.  Believe  me,  that  is  the 
standpoint  only  of  narrow-minded  priests  and  soured 
old  maids,  when  one  judges  the  morality  of  people  solely 
according  to  their  conduct  in  sexual  matters.  I  have  a 
long  life  behind  me  and  I  have  enjoyed  woman's  kind- 
ness as  perhaps  few  other  men, —  and  I  look  back  now 
upon  the  adventures  of  my  youth  with  a  calm  and 
grateful  heart.  Ah,  mon  dieu,  there  was  many  a  furi- 
ous storm,  many  a  frenzied  passion  let  loose,  and  I 
tossed  about  amongst  it  all  like  a  rudderless  ship  upon 
the  ocean.  It  was  grotesque  sometimes  —  haha !  — 
sometimes  tragic  too.  But  for  all  the  women  who  have 
honored  me  with  their  love  I  preserve  the  deepest  grati- 
tude. Without  ecstasy  no  artist  can  exist;  intoxica- 
tion of  the  senses  fructifies  the  imagination,  and  it  is 
absolutely  certain  that  no  man  who  is  not  more  or  less 
sensual  can  be  an  artist.  Nor  is  it  just  to  say  that 
only  the  genius  shall  have  the  right  to  yield  to  his 
impulses  in  what  manner  he  likes.  It  is  possible  for 
a  man  to  produce  works  of  little  importance,  and  yet 
be  possessed  of  a  genuinely  artistic  temperament. 
Neither  religion  nor  social  morality  has  the  right  to 
dictate  laws  as  to  how  male  and  female  shall  behave  one 
to  the  other.  There  Nature  reigns  supreme,  and  the 
rights  of  what  we  call  propriety  extend  only  so  far  as 
to  see  to  it  that  the  mysteries  of  love  be  not  shamelessly 
desecrated.  An  old  man  who  has  been  through  and 
fathomed  many  things  tells  you  that  the  conduct  of 
men  in  matters  of  love  is  of  no  value  whatsoever  in 
judging  of  their  moral  worth.  I  have  known  so  many 


258  Florian  Mayr 

eminent  men  of  trustworthy  character  and  noble  senti- 
ments, refined,  generous,  good,  everything  one  could 
wish,  and  nevertheless  in  puncto  puncti  —  pchah  — 
wanton  butterflies!  And  I  have  also  known  hard- 
hearted, base-minded,  ignoble  men,  who  in  that  respect 
led  immaculate  lives.  Lack  of  temperament  is  always 
coupled  with  disagreeableness  —  particularly  in  women. 
Ah  yes,  the  poor  women!  They  are  so  cruelly  perse- 
cuted. Men  want  only  the  one  thing  of  them,  but  when 
a  woman  dares  to  dispose  of  her  favors  as  she  pleases, 
and  to  follow  the  dictates  of  her  temperament  like  a 
free  man,  she  is  stoned  by  men  and  women  alike.  That 
is  why  it  is  easy  for  women  of  too  ardent  blood  to  fall 
so  low  and  become  depraved.  The  injustice  of  the  world 
fairly  drives  them  into  a  life  of  shame. —  Think  a 
moment,  my  son:  how  can  you  ask  of  this  poor  Ilonka 
that  she  shall  love  you  alone  and  belong  to  you  alone? 
She  is  just  as  free  a  being  as  you  are  and  an  artist 
full  of  temperament.  Has  she  not  the  same  rights  as 
you  have  ?  You  treat  her  like  a  criminal  for  whom  no 
expression  of  scorn  can  be  too  strong,  and  at  the  same 
time  you  yourself  know  best  of  all  how  good  she  is. 
She  is  as  innocent  and  honest  as  a  child  and  has  the 
softest  heart  and  the  truest,  noblest  character  of  all 
my  young  women  pupils.  You  have  wounded  her  cru- 
elly. Go  and  ask  her  forgiveness !  She  was  here  late 
last  night  and  cried  pitifully  over  your  foolish  letter. 
Make  amends,  my  son !  We  artists  must  not  be  priests ; 
but  we  may  be  Christians  —  and  to  despise  human 
weakness  is  un-Christian !  " 

The  aged  Master  stood  there,  his  form  erect  and 
radiant  in  the  morning  sunlight,  in  which  his  snow 
white  hair  shone  about  his  head  like  a  halo,  and  his 


Wagalaweia  259 

kindly  eyes  looked  down  with  fatherly  affection  upon 
the  young  man,  who  sat  prone  in  his  chair  before  him. 

Overwhelmed,  Florian  bent  over  his  wise  Master's 
hand  and  then  went  out  without  a  word,  that  he  might 
commune  with  himself  by  lonely  ways. 


CHAPTER  XIII 
A  Wiedersehen 

ABOUT  the  middle  of  June  after  long  and  careful  prep- 
arations, Liszt's  Legend  of  St.  Elizabeth,  with  full  stage 
setting,  was  to  be  given  at  the  Court  Theater  of  Weimar. 
Many  men  were  gathered  together  in  Weimar  for  this 
event,  bearers  of  names  wellknown  in  the  world  of  mu- 
sic. On  the  day  of  the  performance  Baron  von  Ried 
and  Florian  Mayr  went  at  noon  to  the  railway  station 
to  welcome  their  Berlin  acquaintances. 

The  train  puffed  into  the  station  and  there  at  one  of 
the  car  windows  they  caught  sight  of  Raphael  Silber- 
stein's  enormous  nose.  The  train  had  barely  come  to 
a  standstill  when  that  archangel  of  the  divine  Gais 
opened  the  door  and  sprang  out,  all  eagerness  and  zeal  to 
assist  the  great  Peter  and  his  retinue  in  dismounting. 
This  retinue  consisted  of  Herr  Tomatschek  and  his 
daughter  and  another  lady  whose  resolute  expression 
was  more  striking  than  her  beauty.  The  baron  did 
not  hesitate  even  amid  the  throng  and  tumult  of  the 
station  to  greet  the  great  composer  by  loudly  trumpeting 
a  motif  from  one  of  his  operas,  for  which  he  received 
in  acknowledgment  a  gracious  bend  of  the  head.  Peter 
Gais's  neck  had  grown  still  thicker  in  the  course  of  the 
last  months  and  it  was  probably  this  that  caused  him 
to  carry  his  head  higher  than  ever.  The  energetic  look- 
ing lady  with  the  close  cropped  curly  hair  he  coolly  in- 
troduced as  his  pupil  and  devoted  friend.  Herr  Tomat- 

260 


A  Wiedersehen  261 

schek  was  as  handsome  as  ever.  He  wore  a  black  vel- 
vet jacket  and  a  white  silk  shirt  with  a  silk  cravat. 
And  his  daughter,  Libussa,  with  all  her  lovely  dark 
beauty  looked  even  by  bright  daylight  pale,  weary,  and 
wornout.  They  approached  the  exit,  Peter  Gais  with 
his  "  devoted  friend  "  in  the  lead,  behind  them,  Raphael 
Silberstein,  laden  with  two  valises  and  various  smaller 
pieces  of  luggage,  then  the  baron  with  Libussa  Tomat- 
schek  on  his  arm,  and  finally  Florian  with  the  father  of 
this  singular  maiden. 

On  the  terrace  in  front  of  the  station  the  little  troop 
halted  in  order  to  come  to  some  conclusion  about  a 
hotel.  At  that  moment  Florian  suddenly  caught  the 
sound  of  a  wellknown  voice.  He  turned  quickly  and 
found  himself  face  to  face  with  —  Thekla  Burmester*! 
She  gave  a  little  startled  cry :  "  Oh,  Herr  Mayr !  " 
and  then  seized  her  father  who  was  walking  at  her 
side  by  the  arm  to  attract  his  attention.  But  Herr  Bur- 
mester pretended  not  to  see  Florian  and  felt  busily  in 
his  purse  for  some  small  change  to  give  the  porter. 
His  wife,  however,  who  was  a  few  steps  in  the  rear, 
had  recognized  Florian  at  once.  She  cast  an  angry 
look  at  him  in  passing  and,  taking  her  daughter  by  the 
arm,  led  her  quickly  down  the  stone  steps.  But  Thekla 
was  not  to  be  prevented  from  looking  back  over  her 
shoulder  and  Florian  quickly  raised  his  hat  with  a  nod 
and  a  kindly  smile.  At  the  same  moment  a  figure 
hurried  past  him  which  he  thought  he  recognized  also: 
soft  hat,  thick  dark  hair,  and  a  mustache  with  a  melan- 
choly droop, —  surely  that  was  —  ?  The  gentleman  en- 
tered the  omnibus  of  the  "  Russischer  Hof  "  with  the 
Burmesters.  Of  course  it  was  Antonine  Prczewalski, 
the  "  sensitive  artist !  "  So  he  was  traveling  with  the 


262  Florian  Mayr 

Bunnesters,  stopping  at  the  same  hotel,  probably  at 
the  consul's  expense, —  perhaps  he  was  even  more  closely 
connected  with  the  family.  Florian  stamped  his  foot 
and  looked  angrily  after  the  omnibus  as  it  rattled  away. 

The  voice  of  Herr  Tomatschek  brought  him  to  him- 
self again :  "  Perhaps  you  are  acquainted  with  the  peo- 
ple with  whom  our  friend  Prczewalski  is  traveling  ?  " 
he  asked  curiously.  "  I  saw  them  all  get  on  together  in 
Berlin." 

"  Aha !  Then  you  know  this  damned  Prositlaus, 
too  ?  "  replied  Florian.  "  I  used  to  give  Fraulein  Bur- 
mester  piano  lessons, —  that  was  the  Consul  Burmester 
of  the  Markgrafenstrasse.  Has  the  scamp  had  the  ef- 
frontery —  ? " 

"  Why,  certainly,  he  is  said  to  be  engaged  to  her," 
interrupted  Tomatschek  quickly.  "  There's  money  be- 
hind it  all,  I  suppose  ?  I  have  heard  something  about 
a  million  marks, —  some  say  a  million  thalers !  " 

"  You,  my  dear  Herr  Tomatschek,"  cried  Florian 
suddenly  with  droll  solemnity,  seizing  the  handsome 
Toby  firmly  by  the  arm,  "  You  may  call  me  a  black- 
guard if  I  allow  this  noble  Pole  to  get  out  of  Weimar 
without  a  thrashing.  I  still  have  something  charged 
up  against  him  in  my  accounts.  I  take  you  for  my 
witness." 

"Ah,  with  pleasure,"  replied  Tomatschek  joyfully. 
"  If  you  issue  tickets  of  admission  please  put  me  down 
for  one.  No  one  can  abide  the  fellow,  this  Prczewalski. 
He's  an  earwig,  bedbug  that  makes  his  nest  everywhere, 
that  is,  of  course  only  where  there  is  something  to  be 
had, —  he  can't  be  exterminated.  Besides  he  has  no 
ability.  Why  this  winter  he  gave  a  concert  of  his  own 
compositions  at  the  Singakademie, —  the  consul  of 


A  Wiedersehen  263 

course  paid  for  it  all, —  I  tell  you  that  was  the  greatest 
rot  I  ever  heard  in  all  my  life!  Even  the  dead-heads 
got  up  and  fled  after  the  first  half-hour;  you  can  guess 
from  that  how  many  people  stayed  to  the  bitter  end. 
That  pretty  Fraulein  there  presented  him  with  an  enor- 
mous laurel  wreath  with  ribbons  in  the  Polish  colors, 
white  and  red." 

"  What,  Thekla  ?  "  cried  Florian  in  a  rage.  "  Well, 
my  God,  are  all  womenfolk  possessed  of  the  devil  ?  " 

Peter  Gais  and  his  party  had  at  last  settled  upon  the 
"Adler"  inn  and  they  crawled  into  its  omnibus,  but 
Baron  von  Hied  and  Florian  preferred  to  return  to  the 
town  on  foot.  The  baron's  humor  was  as  cheerful  as 
Florian's  was  sour. 

"  Heaven  is  my  witness,"  exclaimed  the  former  with 
animation,  "this  Libussa  Tomatschek  delights  me 
mightily.  Why,  what  a  charming  little  head  she  has 
and  what  wonderfully  silky  hair !  " 

"  Oh,  stuff !  leave  me  out  of  it !  "  growled  Florian. 
"  I  can't  understand  how  anyone  can  get  excited  about 
these  fool  girls.  I'm  done  with  the  baggage." 

"  Herrgottsacra!  but  I  do  get  excited,"  cried  the 
baron  laughing,  "  and  when  I  no  longer  take  any  pleas- 
ure in  the  dear  girls,  I  think  I  might  as  well  get  off 
the  earth  altogether."  The  baron  easily  became  in- 
fected with  any  dialect  and  in  this  speech  Florian's 
Bavarian  accents  had  caused  him  to  fall  into  the  choicest 
stage  of  Tyrolese. 

Florian  looked  at  him  askance  with  an  expression  of 
ironical  pity.  "  It  seems  to  me,"  he  said,  "  a  man 
ought  to  be  glad  to  get  out  of  all  this  social  business  and 
have  some  peace  at  last.  I  suppose,  after  all,  the  most 
sensible  thing  to  do  is  to  get  married ;  then  all  you've 


264  Florian  Mayr 

got  to  worry  about  is  just  your  one  goose  at  home  and 
not  the  whole  flock  of  geese  running  round  outside." 

The  baron  stood  still  and  laughed  aloud.  "  Oh,  holy 
innocence !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  !Now,  pray,  give  me  your 
attention ;  I'll  proclaim  to  you  an  incontrovertible  truth : 
you  need  to  be  married  at  most  a  year  in  order  to 
become  solemnly  convinced  that  all  geese  without  a  sin- 
gle exception  are  preferable  to  your  own, —  or  rather 
that  you,  unhappy  man,  have  happened  to  catch  the 
normal,  original,  primeval  goose,  in  comparison  with 
which  all  unmarried  females  of  your  acquaintance  shine 
as  angels." 

Florian  glanced  at  the  baron  distrustfully.  "  Then 
have  you  had  such  pleasant  experiences  to  go  through  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  If  you  please,  let  us  not  become  personal,"  answered 
Herr  von  Hied,  growing  suddenly  serious.  "  But  mark 
one  thing:  a  genuine  artist  ought  never  to  marry,  or 
at  all  events, —  no,  the  exceptions  baffle  all  descrip- 
tion." 

"  Well,  according  to  all  that,  you  don't  seem  to  have 
a  very  high  opinion  of  women  either." 

"  I  ?  Oh !  I  have  always  tried  my  best  to  be  just.  Let 
me  tell  you  something,  my  dear  Herr  Mayr :  women  are 
esteemed  most  highly  by  men  who  have  been  fortunate 
in  love  and  who  have  at  the  same  time  preserved  their 
nobility  of  nature ;  in  a  lesser  degree  they  are  valued  by 
men  who  are  perfectly  contented  with  their  married 
life,  and  least  of  all  by  the  wealthy  voluptuaries.  The 
man  who  regards  love  as  a  business  transaction  will 
always  despise  women,  just  as  young  men  do  who  have 
never  been  regarded  by  any  decent  woman  as  grown- 
up, and  just  as  certain  underbred  men  do,  whose  hope- 


A  Wiedersehen  265 

less  and  complete  vulgarity  must  forever  exclude  them 
from  the  society  of  women  of  refinement." 

At  the  next  street  corner  the  baron  took  leave  of 
Florian  with  the  understanding  that  they  were  to  meet 
their  friends  after  the  performance  in  the  evening. 
Florian  went  on  alone  to  the  restaurant  where  he  was 
accustomed  to  take  his  tedious  midday  meal.  He  was 
in  a  wretched  frame  of  mind.  He  had  listened  to  so 
many  wise  sayings  about  women  from  his  Master  and 
from  this  distinguished  author  whose  professional 
knowledge  of  the  human  soul  gave  his  words  authority, 
• —  and  yet  all  the  philosophy  he  had  imbibed  did  not 
serve  to  restore  his  equanimity.  He  regretted  his  bru- 
tality towards  Fraulein  Badacs  and  had,  in  fact,  since 
she  had  refused  to  see  him,  begged  her  pardon  in  writ- 
ing. He  had  received  no  answer  from  her  but  she  had 
returned  his  salutation  pleasantly  when  he  bowed  to  her 
in  the  street.  At  their  meeting,  however,  in  Liszt's 
salon  she  had  given  him  clearly  to  understand  that  she 
would  permit  no  further  discussion  of  the  matter.  That 
had  angered  him,  too,  for  he  still  felt  that  he  was  the 
one  that  had  been  injured  first.  To  him  she  had  been 
of  all  women  the  first,  but  to  her  he  was  of  no  signifi- 
cance whatsoever,  a  perfect  zero !  That  was  more  than 
his  pride  could  swallow ;  it  cut  him  deeply. 

And  now  all  at  once  the  other  one  had  turned  up 
again,  the  good,  sadly  persecuted  child,  who  had  at- 
tached herself  to  him  with  so  much  trustfulness,  even 
though  he  had  abused  her!  The  look  she  had  given 
him  when  she  turned  round  in  front  of  the  station  had 
said  distinctly :  "  Come,  help  me,  don't  you  see  how 
unhappy  I  am !  "  And  all  this  time  that  he  had  been 
in  Weimar,  he  had  not  given  her  one  thought.  He  had, 


266  Florian  Mayr 

like  the  great  simple  greenhorn  that  he  was,  stumbled 
into  an  adventure  with  a  person  to  whom  his  homely 
German  sentiment  was  only  a  matter  for  mirth,  and 
meanwhile  dear  little  Thekla,  who  was  surely  better 
suited  to  him,  he  had  left  helpless  and  abandoned  to 
her  fate.  If  she  really  was  engaged  to  the  loathsome 
Pole,  if  she  really  had  in  public  presented  that  object 
of  disgust  with  a  laurel  wreath,  then  she  certainly  must 
have  been  forced  into  it  and  only  her  despair  had 
availed  to  overcome  her  opposition.  Ay,  ay !  that  was 
the  way  of  it:  it  was  he  that  was  to  blame  for  letting 
this  brazenfaced  Polack  steal  the  dear  girl  and  sneak 
off  with  her  good  money  into  the  bargain.  Was  it  in- 
exorable fate  that  the  moment  an  honest  man  had  any- 
thing to  do  with  women  everything  must  go  wrong 
with  him  ?  What  a  comfortable  life  he  had  led  hitherto, 
and  now  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  was  nothing  but  a  good- 
for-nothing  wretch. 

The  food  did  not  taste  good.  The  last  course  he 
left  untouched  and  for  two  hours  wandered  about  with- 
out purpose  or  destination.  The  afternoon  passed 
drearily,  especially  as  the  reception  at  Liszt's  was 
omitted  on  account  of  the  performance  in  the  evening. 
In  the  theater  at  last  he  found  diversion  and  excite- 
ment. 

The  little  old  house  was  filled  to  the  last  chair  and  in 
the  parquet  and  first  gallery  were  to  be  seen  many  musical 
celebrities,  out  of  town  critics,  and  distinguished  friends 
of  the  great  Master.  The  grand-ducal  family  with  the 
court  occupied  the  large  middle  box,  a  circumstance 
which  of  itself  gave  the  occasion  an  air  of  impressive 
dignity.  The  Burmester  family  sat  in  the  first  gallery 
at  the  right,  places  formerly  reserved  for  the  nobility, 


A  Wiedersehen  267 

and,  between  the  all  too  slender  Frau  Consul  and  the 
plump  and  pretty  Thekla,  Antonine  Prczewalski  was 
posing.  In  the  so-called  "visitors'  box"  sat  Jean 
d'Oettern  beside  a  member  of  a  mediatized  princely 
house  and  his  handsome  consort.  He  used  his  opera- 
glass  industriously  and  bowed  and  smiled  to  his  ac- 
quaintances on  all  sides.  Baron  von  Kied,  Toby 
Tomatschek  and  daughter,  Peter  Gais  with  his  "  devoted 
friend,"  and  Florian  Mayr  sat  together  in  the  parquet. 
In  the  intendant's  small  orchestra  box  appeared  just 
before  the  beginning  of  the  performance  Franz  Liszt. 
A  table  with  two  candles  had  been  placed  in  the  box 
for  his  use.  On  the  table  lay  his  orchestral  score  in 
case  he  should  wish  to  refer  to  it  during  the  perform- 
ance. At  the  left  in  the  first  gallery  Florian  noticed  to 
his  great  surprise  Ilonka  Badacs  in  the  company  of  the 
gaunt  Mr.  Crookes.  The  boys  were  not  there, —  pre- 
sumably they  were  not  permitted  to  go  to  the  theater 
as  yet! 

Until  the  overture  began,  Florian  kept  his  eyes  as 
much  as  possible  on  the  Burmesters.  He  could  see  how 
the  Pole  with  a  great  show  of  tenderness  kept  trying  to 
draw  Thekla  into  conversation  while  she  kept  turning 
away  impatiently  and  busying  herself  with  her  opera- 
glass.  Was  it  possible  that  she  was  looking  for  her 
former  teacher  and  faithless  friend  ?  Her  glass  ranged 
through  all  the  rows  of  the  parquet  from  back  to  front. 
Florian  rose  and  turned  his  back  to  the  orchestra. 
There, —  now  she  seemed  to  have  caught  sight  of 
him !  He  saluted  her  with  his  eyes  and  a  slight  bend 
of  the  head,  and  she  put  her  glass  down.  He  thought 
he  had  seen  her  dark  little  head  inclined  just  a  little 
towards  him.  At  that  moment  Prczewalski  brought  his 


268  Florian  Mayr 

lips  close  to  her  and  whispered  something.  She 
shrugged  her  shoulders,  obviously  annoyed  and  leaned 
back  in  her  seat.  The  handsome  Antonine  took  the 
glass  from  her  hand  and  now  in  his  turn  directed  it 
towards  Florian.  But  just  then  the  lights  were  turned 
down  and  the  overture  began. 

In  less  than  quarter  of  an  hour  Florian  had  forgotten 
all  his  surroundings  and  was  completely  under  the 
spell  of  this  wonderful  music.  He  was  one  of  the 
probably  very  few  hearers  who  followed  with  undivided 
attention  and  honest  admiration  the  somewhat  laby- 
rinthine paths  which  the  mind  of  the  Master  had 
traversed  in  his  St.  Elizabeth.  The  work  is  too  far 
removed  from  everything  operatic,  too  ecclesiastical  in 
its  style,  and  furthermore  too  undramatic  in  construc- 
tion to  produce  a  powerful  effect  upon  the  stage.  As  a 
consequence  the  naive  listeners  were  thoroughly  bored ; 
they  awoke  from  their  quiet  little  catnaps  only  for  the 
Crusaders'  march  and  the  storm  scene,  and  they  were 
heartily  glad  when  it  was  all  over,  but  the  professionals 
and  especially  the  closer  friends  of  the  Master  and  of 
his  school  were  all  filled  with  delight  over  the  wealth 
of  musically  significant  details  and  the  atmosphere  of 
religious  consecration  which  pervaded  the  whole  work. 
At  the  close  of  the  performance  numerous  groups,  espe- 
cially of  visiting  strangers,  remained  standing  in  the 
vestibule  or  in  the  auditorium  to  see  Liszt  when  he 
came  out.  Among  these  was  the  Burmester  family  as 
well  as  Peter  Gais  with  his  contingent.  The  poor  little 
Herr  Consul  had  been  roundly  scolded  by  his  wife  be- 
fore they  had  got  down  stairs  because  he  had  yawned 
constantly.  Thekla,  following  at  her  mother's  heels, 
had  heard  this  and  in  the  vestibule  she  whispered  re- 


A  Wiedersehen  269 

assuringly :  "  !N"ever  mind,  papa, —  I  thought  it  was 
awfully  tiresome,  too." 

At  this  point  Prczewalski  came  up  with  a  young  gen- 
tleman belonging  to  the  outer  circle  of  the  Lisztites 
whom  he  introduced  as  his  friend.  Frau  Burmester 
at  once  drew  the  gentleman  into  conversation  and  sought 
to  ascertain  all  sorts  of  intimate  facts  about  Liszt's  mode 
of  life  and  his  attitude  towards  his  women  pupils.  All 
the  information  that  the  young  gentleman  was  able  to 
give  failed  to  satisfy  her.  She  regarded  the  linger- 
ing groups  through  her  long-handled  lorgnon,  asked  the 
names  of  different  individuals,  and  all  at  once  burst 
out :  "  Tell  me,  how  should  one  go  about  it  to  meet 
Liszt?  We  should  be  greatly  delighted  to  attend  one 
of  his  afternoon  receptions, —  shouldn't  we,  Willy  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,  tremendously,"  declared  the  consul 
dutifully. 

"  Well,  if  you  have  any  connections, — "  answered  the 
gentleman. 

"  Oh,  we  know  the  whole  musical  world  of  Berlin," 
cried  Frau  Burmester  almost  defiantly.  "  Besides  our 
future  son-in-law  left  a  very  influential  visiting  card 
at  the  Master's  only  this  afternoon:  the  score  of  his 
latest  symphonic  poem." 

"  Ah ! "  cried  Antonine's  friend  with  a  peculiar 
smile,  "  that  to  be  sure. —  Besides  to-morrow  evening 
there  is  to  be  a  great  reception  at  Liszt's.  The  court 
will  be  there  and  a  number  of  distinguished  artists 
and  other  celebrities.  And  there  is  likely  to  be  an  un- 
commonly interesting  programme  of  musical  treats. 
Smetana,  the  Bohemian,  will  play  a  new  piano  quar- 
tette, a  notable  Russian  singer  is  to  sing,  and  then, — 
Oh,  yes,  Daniela  von  Billow  is  coming  over  from  Bay- 


270  Florian  Mayr 

reuth  on  purpose,  I've  heard ;  you  know,  of  course,  Frau 
Cosima's  eldest  daughter." 

"  We  must  go !  "  cried  Frau  Burmester  excitedly. 
"  At  any  price.  We'll  stay  over  another  day,  won't 
we,  Willy?" 

"  We  haven't  even  heen  presented  yet,"  objected 
Herr  Burmester  timidly. 

"  Oh,  nonsense,  what's  the  use  of  having  a  son-in-law 
in  spe,"  laughed  Frau  Olga  exuberantly.  "  You'll  ar- 
range that  for  us,  won't  you,  dear  Antonine  ?  " 

Antonine  ran  his  fingers  through  his  hair,  snorted 
once  or  twice,  and  looked  around  helplessly.  "  Khn, 
khn, —  I  really  don't  know  — " 

"  Well,  then  for  heaven's  sake  make  up  to  some  in- 
fluential person  or  other,"  snapped  Frau  Burmester  im- 
patiently. "  Who  is  it  that  has  the  most  influence  with 
Liszt  here?" 

Antonine's  friend  smiled  scornfully  as  he'  replied: 
"  Well  if  your  son-in-law  had  the  honor  of  knowing  the 
celebrated  Herr  Mayr,  you  might  then  still  cherish 
hopes." 

"  Who  is  Herr  Mayr  ?  "  inquired  Frau  Olga,  elevat- 
ing her  scrawny  shoulders. 

""  Oh,  isn't  the  celebrated  Herr  Mayr  known  in 
Berlin  yet?  He  throws  ladies  down  stairs  and  plays 
the  savage  Cerberus  before  the  holy  of  holies.  Why 
he  simply  hypnotizes  the  good  Master  and  makes  him 
do  whatever  he  likes,  this  celebrated  Herr  Mayr  with 
a-y-r,  Florian  Mayr." 

"  Papa,  did  you  hear  ? "  whispered  Thekla  in  ex- 
citement, squeezing  her  father's  arm  tightly. 

The  consul  nodded  and,  turning  to  his  future  son-in- 


A  Wiedersehen  271 

law,  said  with  an  engaging  jeer:  "Why,  that  is  most 
opportune ;  you  know  Herr  Mayr  so  well !  " 

The  noble  Pole  turned  pale  with  rage  and  snorted  his 
disgusting  "  khn,  khn "  so  violently  through  his  nose 
that  the  hairs  of  his  silky  mustache  trembled  visibly. 

Frau  Olga  made  a  sour  face  and  reproved  her  hus- 
band's rudeness  with  a  severe  glance. 

At  this  moment  Liszt  entered  the  vestibule  by  one 
of  the  side  doors.  At  his  right  walked  the  court  con- 
ductor, Lassen,  who  had  conducted  the  evening's  per- 
formance, and  at  his  left  Morian  Mayr.  The  gentle- 
men present  took  off  their  hats  and  bowed  low  before 
the  venerable  Master  and  some  of  the  ladies,  too,  made 
a  formal  court  curtsey.  Some  elderly  gentlemen  went 
up  and  spoke  to  him. 

Florian  had  descried  the  Burmesters  at  once.  He 
looked  Thekla  straight  in  the  eye  and  saluted  her  with 
great  cordiality;  whereat  she  blushed  scarlet  and 
dropped  a  curtsey  like  a  little  girl.  Instantly  her 
mother  gave  her  a  stealthy  dig  in  the  ribs. 

"  What  are  you  thinking  of !  We  don't  know  that 
person,"  she  whispered. 

Almost  at  the  same  moment  Antonine's  friend,  cov- 
ering his  mouth  with  his  hand,  said  in  a  low  voice: 
"  Madam,  that  is  the  celebrated  Herr  Mayr.  Just 
look,  papa  Liszt  is  introducing  him  to  the  old  gentle- 
man. Good  Lord,  how  affectionately  he  pats  him! 
It's  incomprehensible,  the  infatuation  he  has  for  that 
man !  "  Then,  turning  to  Prczewalski :  "  Well,  why 
don't  you  go  and  speak  to  your  friend  Mayr  ? " 

"  Oh,  some  day  I  shall  kill  the  man !  "  hissed  An- 
tonine  angrily. 


272  Florian  Mayr 

Liszt  moved  towards  the  door  and  the  whole  com- 
pany followed  him.  Antonine  offered  his  arm  to  his 
fiancee  hut  she  repulsed  him  with  a  shudder  and  clung 
the  closer  to  her  father. 

"  Come,  papa,  let's  get  away  from  here  quickly,"  she 
whispered  excitedly.  "  I  can't  stand  it  any  longer." 

The  Frau  Consul  caught  sight  of  the  rapidly  de- 
parting pair  and,  seizing  Antonine' s  arm  and  drawing 
him  quickly  along  with  her,  she  burst  out  angrily: 
"  Xow,  you  see,  there  she  is  running  away  from  you 
again.  What  does  it  mean  ?  I  helieve  you  don't  know 
how  to  command  her  respect;  you  must  make  some  im- 
pression upon  the  child !  " 

"  Oh,  ought  I  perhaps  to  strike  her  like  this  Herr 
Hayr  ?  "  retorted  Antonine  offended.  "  That  seems  to 
be  the  surest  way  to  make  an  impression  upon  Fraulein 
Thekla." 

"  And  what  do  you  do  ?  "  rejoined  Frau  Olga  irri- 
tated. "  You're  always  telling  her  of  your  marvelous 
successes  with  all  kinds  of  great  ladies  and  boasting  of 
your  princely  and  other  famous  acquaintances.  If  in- 
stead of  that  you'd  have  success  with  some  of  your 
works  or  could  make  your  personality  tell  in  any  way  at 
all, —  as  this  Herr  Mayr  does !  But  you  can't  even  get 
us  an  invitation  to  Liszt's." 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,  allow  me,  mamma,"  con- 
tradicted Antonine,  greatly  piqued.  "  I  will  procure 
you  an  invitation, —  but  a  trifle  for  me.  Liszt  has  re- 
quested me  to  go  to  him  to-morrow  at  nine  o'clock  to 
go  through  my  work  with  me.  He  would  be  very  glad 
to  make  my  acquaintance,  was  the  word  he  sent  me. 
Oh,  you  will  see,  mother,  whether  I  make  impression  or 
not.  Khn,  khn!" 


A  Wiedersehen  273 

"Well,  we'll  hope  for  the  best,"  replied  Frau  Bur- 
mester,  not  yet  quite  convinced. 

"  And  now,  dear  mamma,"  continued  Antonine  with 
a  tender  intonation,  "  you  will  help  me,  won't  you  ?  that 
the  wedding  day  may  be  named  soon.  I  assure  you, 
Thekla's  opposition  is  nothing  but  a  young  girl's  shy- 
ness. I  shall  be  able  to  overcome  that  brilliantly  as 
soon  as  I  am  her  husband.  Please,  khn, —  I  overcame 
the  pride  of  the  Countess  Leszczynska  and  the  little 
countess  — " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know, —  her  real  wish  was  to  go  into  a 
convent  and  then  she  thought  she'd  rather  be  carried 
off  by  you, —  you've  already  told  me  that  story,  dear 
Antonine.  For  your  sake  I  honestly  regret  that  our 
Thekla  possesses  so  little  of  the  temperament  of  your 
Polish  countesses."  There  was  not  the  slightest  doubt 
that  Frau  Olga  was  speaking  ironically. 

"  Oh,  I  shall,  khn,"  began  Prczewalski,  proudly 
throwing  out  his  chest. 

But  his  future  mother-in-law  impatiently  *cut  him 
short  and,  imitating  his  accent,  cried :  "  Oh,  you  will ! 
What  you  will  and  what  you  won't  do !  You're  the 
greatest  musician  of  the  future  that  I  have  ever  en- 
countered. But  you've  really  got  to  marry  Thekla 
pretty  soon  for  these  everlasting  tiresome  scenes  with 
my  husband  must  stop.  Unfortunately  he  has  once  for 
all  a  prejudice  against  you.  Make  the  child  happy, 
that's  the  only  thing  you've  got  to  do  if  you  want  to  win 
the  consul  over."  Thus  speaking,  they  had  reached 
their  hotel. 

Meanwhile  Florian  had  accompanied  his  Master  home 
and  there  had  left  him  to  his  older  friends  and  ad- 
mirers in  order  himself  to  keep  his  appointment  with 


274  Florian  Mayr 

his  Berlin  acquaintances  at  the  "  Sachsischer  Hof." 
But  he  wanted  to  let  the  exalted  and  devotional  im- 
pression of  the  work  he  had  just  heard  fade  away  in  his 
soul  harmoniously,  so,  before  returning  to  the  company 
of  men,  and  especially  of  Berliners,  he  made  his  way, 
not  through  the  town,  but  around  by  the  back  of  the 
Hofgartnerei  and  thence  through  the  park. 

When  he  reached  the  neighborhood  of  the  Rondell, 
where  on  fine  Sundays  in  summer  the  military  band 
used  to  play,  he  heard  the  cooing  of  lovers  and,  as  he 
came  nearer,  he  could  dimly  descry  a  couple  on  one  of 
the  benches.  He  stepped  from  the  gravel  walk  to  the 
grass  and  listened.  He  himself  thought  that  it  was  not 
exactly  nice  of  him,  but  he  yielded  nevertheless  to  the 
sudden  impulse  in  order  to  learn  for  once  how  the  thing 
was  done  among  normally  constituted  lovers.  There 
was  something  like  envy  in  the  impulse;  for  since 
he  had  fared  so  badly  in  his  first  love  affair,  he  carried 
about  in  his  heart  an  ardent  yearning  to  be  loved. 

"  My  poor  little  heart,  I'm  awfully  sorry  for  you,"  he 
heard  the  man  say.  "  Of  course  it's  no  wonder  that 
you've  got  your  head  full  of  such  strange  ideas  about 
the  world  and  about  us  men  in  particular.  You  grew 
up  in  a  wholly  unhealthy  and  abnormal  atmosphere." 

Florian  thought  he  recognized  the  voice.  Could  this 
cultured  lover  be  —  ? 

Then  the  girl  began  to  speak  but  not  in  tones  of 
tenderness.  She  spoke  in  a  loud  voice  and  dug  the  toe 
of  her  shoe  viciously  into  the  gravel.  "  But  I  don't 
want  to  be  pitied, — I  can't  at  all  make  out  what  it  is 
that  you  want.  I  have  a  father  who  adores  me;  I  en- 
joy the  friendship  of  distinguished  men;  the  whole 
world  of  my  thoughts  I  have  for  myself." 


A  Wiedersehen  275 

"  That's  just  the  trouble,"  interrupted  the  gentleman 
eagerly.  "  If  you  would  only  think  a  little  bit  less  and 
feel  a  little  bit  more  naturally,  all  hearts  would  go  out 
to  you  and  you  could  exercise  an  extraordinary  power 
over  men.  Believe  me,  I'm  convinced  that  you  have 
within  you  the  makings  of  a  great  artist  but  you  won't 
give  the  artist  a  chance  against  the  cross-grained,  spoiled 
child  within  you.  It  would  all  come  so  easy  to  you, 
especially  on  the  stage;  your  natural  feminine  charm 
furnishes  you  with  three-quarters  of  your  success  to 
start  with.  So  first  learn  to  be  a  nice  dear  girl  and  all 
other  blessings  will  be  showered  into  your  lap." 

"  I  notice,  Herr  Baron,  that  for  the  last  ten  minutes 
you  have  consistently  addressed  me  in  the  forms  of 
intimacy,"  replied  the  girl  unmoved.  By  this  time 
Florian  knew  exactly  whom  he  had  before  him:  it  was 
Baron  von  Eied  who  was  doing  his  utmost  for  the  re- 
generation of  Libussa  Tomatschek. 

"  Good  heavens,  girl,"  cried  the  baron  in  comical 
despair,  "  you're  a  regular  iceberg !  You  certainly 
must  have  noticed  that  I  like  you,  deuce  take  it  all! 
Don't  interrupt  me  all  the  time  with  your  frivolous  re- 
marks. I  don't  want  to  start  a  flirtation  with  you. 
Why  are  you  so  absurdly  stubborn  ?  All  that  I  want 
to  do  is  to  bring  you  to  reason  and  thereby  earn  my  re- 
ward in  heaven." 

"  Ah,  indeed,  and  that's  the  reason  you  advise  me  to 
be  unreasonable  ?  " 

"  Exactly,  and  very  well  said !  Verily,  I  say  unto 
you,  my  gracious  Fraulein,  except  ye  become  as  one  of 
those  that  are  in  love,  it's  all  up  with  the  kingdom  of 
heaven, — that  is,  on  earth." 

Fraulein  Libussa  laughed  aloud  and  the  baron,  fold- 


276  Florian  Mayr 

ing  her  in  his  arms,  cried  in  uncontrolled  delight: 
"  Ay,  see  that,  how  wonderfully  pretty  your  laugh  is ! 
Come,  you  shall  have  a  good  kiss  for  that." 

"  Oh !  "  said  the  Fraulein,  struggling  feebly,  but  the 
baron  already  held  her  by  the  head  and  stifled  her  pro- 
tests with  his  kisses. 

Florian  felt  that  at  this  point  propriety  demanded 
a  speedy  retreat  on  his  part.  The  night  was  so  mild  and 
the  moon  shone  with  such  a  matchmaking  wantonness, 
like  a  lonely  lantern  in  a  dark  alley,  and  every  fifty 
steps  Florian  came  upon  a  slowly  strolling  pair  of 
lovers  with  their  arms  tenderly  entwined, —  it  was 
enough  to  drive  one  mad !  If  only  he  might  now  take 
a  stroll  with  dear  little  Thekla  Burmester,  her  dark 
head  upon  his  shoulder,  his  arm  around  her  waist, — 
surely  he  could  think  of  enough  tender  words  to  whisper 
in  her  ear  and  he  was  convinced  that  he  would  not  be 
reduced  to  the  necessity  of  calling  her  "  a  regular  ice- 
berg," as  the  baron  had  his  singular  companion.  He 
certainly  would  have  felt  no  uneasiness  about  the  puta- 
tive bridegroom;  Thekla's  eyes  had  plainly  betrayed 
that  her  feeling  for  him  had  remained  the  same. 

In  the  garden  of  the  "  Sachsischer  Hof "  Florian 
found  a  rather  discontented  company.  Peter  Gais  had 
just  quarreled  with  his  "  devoted  friend "  and  was 
sulkily  chewing  his  cigar.  Kaphael  Silberstein  hitched 
about  uneasily  on  his  chair  and  deliberated  in  vain  how 
to  lead  the  Titan's  thoughts  into  another  channel.  Toby 
Tomatschek  had  turned  his  back  upon  the  entire  com- 
pany in  order  to  keep  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  door ;  from 
time  to  time  in  his  excitement  he  tumbled  his  curly  hair 
about. 

"  What  have  you  done  with  my  daughter  ? "  called 


A  Wiedersehen  277 

out  the  handsome  man  as  Florian  approached  the 
table. 

Florian  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  put  on  an  air 
of  complete  astonishment  and  profound  ignorance.  He 
sat  down  beside  the  "  violin-king  "  and  looked  from  one 
to  the  other  in  wonder.  ISTo  one  spoke  a  word. 

Suddenly  Peter  Gais  emitted  an  inimitable,  con- 
temptuous "  Ho !  "  and  shifted  his  cigar  from  the  right 
corner  of  his  mouth  to  the  left.  All  looked  at  him  ex- 
pectantly but  for  the  present  the  Titan  had  nothing 
more  to  say.  Florian  meanwhile  gave  his  order  to  the 
waiter. 

Toby  Tomatschek  heaved  a  deep  sigh  and,  leaning 
over  to  Florian,  whispered  in  his  ear :  "  I  have  a  fore- 
boding of  evil." 

"  Oh,  pshaw !  "  rejoined  Florian  with  unbecoming 
hilarity. 

"  The  baron  has  run  away  with  my  daughter,  what'll 
you  wager  ?  "  whispered  the  handsome  Toby  in  a  tone 
of  deep  dejection.  "  He  has  long  loved  the  girl.  You 
know  that  he  wrote  a  part  expressly  for  her?  Didn't 
you  know  that  ?  My  daughter  is  to  create  the  role  at 
one  of  the  first  theaters  of  Berlin.  The  play  is  called 
The  Blackguard" 

Florian  started.     "  Good  God,  that's  a  strong  title !  " 

"  Hm,  yes,  there's  marrow  and  force  in  it,"  assented 
Tomatschek  meditatively.  Then  he  slowly  blew  forth 
a  mouthful  of  smoke  and  began  to  whisper  again: 
"  Would  you  advise  me  to  telegraph  to  his  wife  ?  " 

"  How  ?    What's  that  ?     Whose  wife  ?  " 

"  Why,  the  baron's  wife  of  course.  I  had  thought 
of  wording  it  something  like  this :  '  My  daughter  just 
abducted  by  your  husband.  Will  you  move  for  di- 


278  Florian  Mayr 

vorce?  Otherwise  proceedings  on  my  part.'  How 
does  that  strike  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  '  proceedings  '  strikes  me  as  splendid,"  replied 
Florian,  scarcely  able  to  restrain  his  laughter. 

"Hm,"  murmured  the  "  violin-king,"  growing 
thoughtful  again,  "  you  understand :.  honor  above  every- 
thing,—  one  cannot  allow  oneself  to  be  trifled  with. 
For  the  rest  I  quite  understand  the  baron's  motive;  in 
his  place  I  should  run  away  with  my  daughter  my- 
self. Oh,  Libussa  is  wonderful  woman!  The  baron 
discovered  her  phenomenal  talent  at  once.  It  goes 
without  saying  that  she  would  have  made  her  way  even 
without  this  marriage." 

"  What  marriage  ?  "  inquired  Florian  completely  puz- 
zled. 

"  Why  of  course  the  baron  will  marry  her  when  he 
has  obtained  his  divorce !  " 

"  Oh,  I  see,  I  had  already  forgotten  that  the  baron 
was  going  to  get  a  divorce,"  replied  Florian,  chuckling 
to  himself. 

Peter  Gais  had  just  taken  a  deep  draught  from  his 
glass  which  he  now  replaced  upon  the  table  with  a  vigor- 
ous bang,  uttering  as  he  did  so  in  a  loud  clear  voice  the 
single  word  "Rot!" 

Raphael  Silberstein  looked  up  at  him  with  enthu- 
siasm as  if  expecting  a  further  revelation  and  since  the 
"  devoted  friend  "  as  well  as  the  gentlemen  present  cast 
inquiring  glances  towards  him,  the  Titan  was  at  last 
moved  to  explain  himself  a  little  more  in  detail.  He 
made  a  rather  long  speech  which  was  by  no  means  co- 
herent but  the  gist  of  which  seemed  to  be  that  it  was 
the  highest  time  that  Liszt  and  Wagner  should  be  su- 
perseded. 


A  Wiedersehen  279 

"  They  are  already  superseded,"  remarked  Kaphael 
Silberstein  as  if  that  were  something  quite  obvious,  at 
the  same  time  regarding  the  Titan  with  a  look  of  tender 
adoration  in  his  soft  eyes.  With  Satan  you  have  left 
the  Gotterdammerung  far  behind." 

"My  dear  Silberstein,  you  always  think  you  must 
become  personal  at  once,"  said  the  creator  of  Satan, 
reprimanding  his  disciple.  "  A  just  estimate  of  my 
position  in  the  history  of  music  cannot  be  formed  for 
twenty  years  to  come.  For  this  I  am  quite  prepared." 

At  this  moment  the  "  devoted  friend "  discovered 
Baron  von  Eied  and  Fraulein  Libussa  making  their  way 
among  the  tables  in  search  of  the  party.  They  rose  and 
beckoned  till  they  attracted  the  attention  of  the  couple 
who  thereupon  joined  them.  All  kinds  of  teasing  re- 
marks were  made  but  neither  the  baron  nor  the  Fraulein 
was  particularly  embarrassed  by  them.  They  declared 
with  innocent  unconcern  that  they  had  taken  a  little 
walk  together.  Libussa  looked  wonderfully  pretty. 
Her  eyes  sparkled  and  she  even  had  some  color.  She 
ate  her  supper  with  excellent  appetite  and  carried  on 
an  animated  conversation  with  both  Florian  and  the 
baron.  Papa  Tomatschek  scrutinized  her  narrowly  and 
did  not  seem  to  know  exactly  what  to  make  of  her  be- 
havior. The  baron,  too,  was  in  splendid  spirits  and 
soon  made  the  conversation  flow  freely.  It  was  not 
long  before  the  whole  company  was  in  the  thick  of  a 
fierce  battle  for  Peter  Gais's  assertions  became  more 
and  more  extravagant  and  by  midnight  it  had  gone  so 
far  that  every  claim  to  honor,  civic  or  other,  had  been 
denied  to  every  illustrious  man  of  the  century.  It 
was  a  wholesale  slaughter,  such  as  the  kings  of  Da- 
homey were  wont  to  make  in  celebration  of  their  ac- 


280  Florian  Mayr 

cession  to  the  throne.  The  upshot  of  it  all  was  that 
Peter  Gais  sat  enthroned  alone  as  the  one  solitary  genius 
of  his  time.  At  first  the  baron  had  earnestly  opposed 
these  extravagant  statements  but  later  he  had  recourse 
to  irony,  whereas  Florian  lost  his  temper  at  once  and 
became  insolent.  A  little  more  and  the  dispute  would 
have  ended  in  personal  violence.  Raphael  Silberstein 
had  already  declared  that  only  consideration  for  the 
ladies  had  deterred  him  from  challenging  Florian  and 
the  baron  to  a  saber  duel.  At  this  Libussa  had  play- 
fully hurled  a  beer-mat  at  his  nose  and  this  affront  he 
swore  to  avenge  on  her  father.  In  short  it  proved  to 
be  a  thoroughly  jolly  evening  and  they  parted  at  a  late 
hour  filled  with  rage. 


CHAPTEE  XIV 
The  Judgment 

IN  spite  of  the  long  duration  of  the  evening  symposium, 
Florian  appeared  at  his  Master's  house  next  morning 
at  the  usual  time.  It  is  true,  he  was  not  feeling  quite 
fit.  The  outrageous  heresies  of  the  great  Peter  Gais 
produced  worse  effects  than  the  small  amount  of  alcohol 
that  he  had  imbibed.  !!^or  was  Liszt,  either,  in  very 
good  spirits.  He  too  had  gone  to  bed  very  late,  and 
moreover  had  been  thrown  a  little  off  his  spiritual  equi- 
librium by  the  performance  of  his  Legend.  He 
grumbled  a  bit  as  he  thought  of  the  evening  before. 

"  A  work  of  that  kind  has  no  place  on  the  stage,"  he 
growled.  "  It's  not  done  with  my  consent.  One 
shouldn't  stare  at  Saint  Elizabeth  through  an  opera- 
glass.  But  what  can  one  do  with  these  theater  in- 
tendants?  They  wish  to  do  me  honor, —  pchah!  and 
since  I  yielded  once  to  the  wishes  of  your  King  Lud- 
wig,  of  course  I  can't  refuse  our  good  Grand  Duke. 
Well,  now  his  intendant  has  once  more  proved  to  the 
world  that  Liszt  cannot  write  an  opera !  " 

Florian  endeavored  to  lead  the  Master's  thoughts 
into  another  direction  by  giving  him  a  humorous  ac- 
count of  last  night's  battle  of  words  between  Peter 
Gais  and  the  baron.  But  Liszt  was  not  in  the  humor 
for  laughing.  On  the  contrary,  he  grew  still  more  se- 
rious and  remarked  that  he  remembered  Peter  Gais 
well ;  he  had  found  a  good  deal  of  force  and  originality 
281 


282  Florian  Mayr 

in  his  earlier  works,  and  had  expected  great  things  of 
him;  but  now  Gais  seemed  to  have  succumbed  to  the 
illusion  of  greatness,  the  melancholy  fate  of  strong  ar- 
tistic natures  that  have  failed  of  success.  A  few  un- 
questioning worshippers,  who  confirmed  the  misunder- 
stood genius  in  his  illusion,  often  had  a  worse  effect 
upon  him  than  complete  seclusion. 

"  I  will  tell  you  something,  my  dear  Saint  Florian," 
he  said,  a  melancholy  smile  playing  about  his  mouth. 
"  The  artist's  mission  is  sublime  but  sad.  He  is 
driven  with  demoniac  force  to  a  complete  sacrifice  to 
the  public.  Those  queer  wights,  who,  like  dwarfs  of 
the  underworld,  fashion  rich  ornaments  with  the  sweat 
of  their  brows  and  carefully  hide  them  away  from  the 
light  of  day  in  the  crevasses  of  rocks, —  they  are  not 
artistic  natures  —  never  in  this  world!  The  artist 
must  go  out  with  his  work  into  the  bright  sunlight,  and 
when  the  people  reject  his  gifts  with  scorn  a  feeling 
of  such  bitter  sadness  comes  over  him  as  perhaps  no 
other  human  heart  can  feel.  I  have  not  been  spared 
this  fate.  I  have  been  cruelly  reproached  for  not  con- 
tenting myself  with  being  admired  as  the  most  brilliant 
virtuoso  of  my  time.  I  invented  something  new  — 
the  symphonic  poem.  But  people  would  have  liked 
better  to  have  me  stick  to  my  piano-last,  like  a  regular 
cobbler.  They  find  it  perfectly  reasonable  that  a  nose- 
specialist  needn't  know  what  nerves  there  are  in  the 
great  toe,  but  when  a  musician  wishes  to  write  poetry 
without  words  they  call  it  an  impertinence.  I  am 
well  aware  that  my  works  are  always  performed  on 
my  account  alone,  and  not  for  the  public.  Ah,  yes  in- 
deed, believe  me,  I  have  tasted  the  bitterness  of  the  ar- 
tist's lot !  But  I  have  at  least  one  consolation  which  has 


The  Judgment  283 

prevented  me  from  falling  into  the  sourness  of  the  mis- 
understood j  it  is  the  consciousness  of  having  furnished 
you  younger  ones  with  a  fruitful  incentive,  and  be- 
yond that  the  joy  of  having  lived  to  witness  the  tri- 
umph of  the  '  Stronger  one.' —  But  come  now, —  we 
are  dawdling  away  our  valuable  time.  A  young  man 
brought  me  a  manuscript  yesterday.  He's  coming  this 
morning  at  nine  for  my  opinion,  because  he  has  no 
time  to  wait.  So  we  must  hurry  or  we  shall  catch  it !  " 

He  laughed  with  good-natured  irony  and  opened  a 
manuscript  score  bound  in  green  morocco  leather.  He 
had  not  glanced  over  more  than  a  page  or  two  before 
he  involuntarily  knit  his  bushy  brows.  Then  he  went 
to  the  piano  with  the  score,  placed  it  on  the  rack  and 
called  upon  Florian  to  play  it. 

Florian  sat  down  obediently  on  the  piano-stool  and 
began  by  reading  the  title: 

"  Finis  Poloniae, 
Symphonic  Poem  by  Antonine  Prczewalski." 

"  Well,  upon  my  word !  "  growled  Florian  under  his 
breath.  He  gave,  however,  no  intimation  whatever  of 
his  acquaintance  with  the  composer.  He  looked 
sharply  at  the  notes  and  raised  his  hands  to  strike  the 
keys.  Then  he  let  them  fall  again,  bent  forward  to 
examine  the  music  more  carefully  and  finally  exclaimed 
with  a  laugh,  "  I  beg  your  pardon,  Master,  that's  too 
high  for  me !  " 

"  For  me  too !  "  laughed  Liszt.  "  Oho,  the  young 
man  may  congratulate  himself;  he  has  written  some- 
thing that  I  can't  play !  " 

The  piece  began  with  several  bars  for  the  strings 
alone  in  the  highest  possible  position.  But  the  high 


284  Florian  Mayr 

notes  were  not,  as  is  customary,  scored  in  the  octave 
below,  but  were  written  out  with  innumerable  strokes 
through  the  note-stems.  Then  Liszt  sat  down  at  the 
piano  and,  leaving  out  the  illegible  introduction,  played 
more  than  half  the  manuscript  through.  The  work 
proved  to  be  a  totally  impossible,  mawkish  hodgepodge 
of  sounds.  At  last  Liszt  angrily  slammed  the  cover 
to  and  declared  that  he  would  not  waste  his  time  on  this 
talentless  fellow. 

Antonine  Prczewalski  made  his  appearance  promptly 
at  nine  o'clock.  He  had  made  a  very  careful  toilette 
and  evidently  given  especially  loving  attention  to  his 
hair  and  mustache.  He  made  the  Master  a  bow,  and 
then,  brushing  back  his  locks,  fixed  a  look  of  lofty  dis- 
approval upon  Florian,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  Thou  art 
superfluous  here,  slave.  Depart!  Here  creative  souls 
wish  to  immerse  themselves  in  the  mysteries  of  their 
art!" 

Florian  perfectly  understood  that  his  presence  at  the 
judgment  which  was  now  about  to  descend  upon  the 
singer  of  "  Poland's  End  "  would  be  painful  to  him, 
and,  much  as  he  disliked  the  fellow,  he  still  wished  to 
spare  him  this  humiliation.  He  therefore  asked  per- 
mission to  withdraw,  but  the  Master  directed  him  to 
remain,  saying  that  he  had  work  for  him  later. 

Liszt's  countenance  wore  an  ominous  expression  as  he 
requested  the  handsome  Antonine  to  begin  by  explain- 
ing to  him  the  poetic  ideas  upon  which  the  composition 
was  based.  The  poor  sinner  became  very  much  em- 
barrassed. He  snorted  loudly  through  his  nose  and 
mumbled  a  number  of  disjointed,  obscure  phrases: 
"  Oh,  I  did  not  have  really  ideas  —  only  feelings  —  mu- 
sic is  all  feeling  —  khn  —  so  it  is  the  feelings  of  the 


The  Judgment  285 

noble  Pole  over  the  fall  of  his  beautiful  fatherland 
and  so  forth,  you  understand :  at  the  last  he  exhorts  his 
wife  and  child  to  fidelity  —  khn  khn  —  the  national 
idea  and  so  forth  —  you  understand  ?  —  But  always 
first  and  foremost  the  deep  suffering  of  the  soul !  " 

Liszt's  face  darkened  in  a  way  that  Florian  had 
never  before  seen.  He  pointed  peremptorily  to  the 
piano-stool  and  said,  "  Play  me  that  part  where  the 
noble  Pole  exhorts  wife  and  child,  pchah !  " 

Prczewalski  sat  down  at  the  instrument  and  wiped 
his  white  forehead  with  his  hand.  Then  he  looked 
through  his  manuscript  for  awhile  and  finally  played 
a  page  or  two.  Suddenly  Liszt  stepped  up  from  be- 
hind, turned  the  manuscript  over  to  the  first  page  in  the 
very  midst  of  Prczewalski's  playing  and  said  imperi- 
ously, "  Thank  you,  that  will  do !  now  play  that !  " 

With  trembling  hands  Antonine  produced  a  senseless 
jingle  on  the  highest  keys.  After  a  few  measures  Liszt 
called  a  halt  and  inquired  what  that  meant.  Antonine 
could  find  no  reply ;  he  gagged  and  snorted  and  stared 
at  the  notes  with  such  an  expression  of  misery  that 
even  Florian  pitied  him. 

But  Liszt  kept  at  him.  "  I  will  tell  you  what  it 
is,"  he  cried.  "  It's  just  a  jumble  of  Polish  non- 
sense !  One  doesn't  write  such  notes  —  don't  you  know 
that  ?  If  you  don't  feel  the  meaning  of  music,  then 
don't  write  music."  Then  he  turned  over  to  another 
page,  pointed  with  his  finger  to  a  line  and  asked,  "  Why 
do  you  use  the  English  horn  here  ?  " 

Prczewalski  was  hurt.  He  was  not  going  to  allow 
himself  to  be  treated  like  this,  especially  in  the  pres- 
ence of  such  a  witness ;  and  so  he  gave  his  head  a  toss 
and  replied  as  defiantly  as  his  insipid  nature  would 


286  Florian  Mayr 

allow,  "  Oh,  excuse  me,  in  such  a  work  —  full  orches- 
tra —  Finis  Poloniae  —  klm  —  you  must  use  the  Eng- 
lish horn,  too !  " 

"  You  are  an  insolent  fellow ! "  roared  Liszt  with  a 
sudden  outburst  of  passion.  He  grabbed  the  thin  score 
from  the  rack  and,  before  the  handsome  Antonine  knew 
what  was  coming,  he  got  the  green  book  —  whack !  slap ! 

—  right  and  left  over  the  ears. 

Frightened  to  death,  Antonine  fled  towards  the  door, 
holding  up  both  hands  to  protect  his  head.  On  the 
threshold  he  turned  and,  shaking  his  fist  threateningly 
at  Florian,  cried  out,  half  choked  with  fury,  "  Villain, 
you  villain,  I  have  to  thank  you  for  this !  Oh,  I  will 

—  I   will  — !"     But   as   Liszt   and  the   so  unjustly 
accused  Florian  both  made  a  rapid  movement  in  the 
direction  of  the  door,  Prczewalski  left  his  threat  un- 
finished and  fled  precipitately  from  the  room. 

Breathing  heavily,  Liszt  stood  there  with  his  left 
hand  on  his  forehead  and  the  green  book  still  in  his 
trembling  right. 

"What  happened?"  he  asked  quite  sadly.  "I 
struck  him!  Shame!  Shame!  I  forgot  myself! 
Quick,  Florian,  run  after  him  and  take  him  his  book. 
He  must  forgive  me.  Tell  him  I  will  —  But  no ! 
It  was  villainous !  l  Poland's  End  ?  indeed !  Yes,  to 
be  sure  it  would  be,  if  all  Poles  manufactured  such 
music  as  that!  How  can  he  help  it  that  he's  not  an 
artist?  His  father  ought  to  have  chastised  him,  not 
I.  I  did  wrong.  Eun,  Florian,  run  —  tell  him 
that!" 

Florian  caught  up  the  score  and  ran  out  with  it. 
He  was  stopped  in  the  anteroom  by  Secretary  Spir- 
idion,  whose  attention  had  been  attracted  by  the  Mas- 


The  Judgment  287 

ter's  scolding,  and  who  had  heard  the  slaps  distinctly. 
He  would  have  liked  to  learn  more  about  the  unprec- 
edented affair,  for,  as  long  as  he  had  been  in  Liszt's 
service,  he  had  never  known  his  good  Master  to  give 
way  to  such  a  passion.  Spiridion  had  watched  the 
ejected  Pole  with  curiosity  from  the  window,  and  no- 
ticed that  after  some  hesitation,  he  had  left  the  street 
and  turned  into  the  Park.  In  four  great  bounds  Flo- 
rian  sprang  down  the  stairs,  ran  round  the  Hofgartnerei 
and  down  the  nearest  Park  avenue.  At  the  first  path 
crossing  he  looked  about  him  and  discovered  poor  An- 
tonine  not  a  hundred  yards  distant,  staggering  along 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  Roman  House. 

Florian  broke  into  a  trot.  When  he  was  within 
twenty  paces  of  Prczewalski  the  latter  turned  and  hardly 
had  time  to  recognize  his  enemy  before  he  started  as 
fast  as  his  short  legs  could  carry  him  along  the  nearest 
path,  which  led  down  the  steep  slope  to  the  lower 
Park.  It  was  of  no  avail  that  Florian  called  after 
him,  "  Here  you,  hold  up  a  moment !  You  forgot  your 
manuscript !  "  Antonine  took  no  notice  but  ran  on 
down  until  he  was  in  the  valley  of  the  Una.  There 
Florian  came  up  with  him  and  caught  him  by  the 
coat-tails. 

"  You  run  for  all  the  world  like  a  bad  conscience !  " 
he  gasped  breathlessly. 

Antonine  turned  and  held  up  his  umbrella  across  his 
face,  as  if  to  defend  himself.  Breathing  heavily,  the 
two  enemies  looked  each  other  in  the  eye.  Fury 
mingled  with  fear  distorted  Antonine's  flabby  features. 
Florian  held  out  the  green  morocco  book  and  burst  out 
laughing. 

"  Well,  my  fine  hero,"  he  cried,  "  do  you  want  to 


288  Florian  Mayr 

pitch  into  me  just  because  I  bring  you  back  your 
things?  Here,  take  it,  will  you?  The  Master  says 
to  give  you  his  compliments  and  he's  very  sorry  he  took 
the  trouble  to  use  his  own  hands.  I'm  sorry  too  he 
didn't  leave  it  to  me ! " 

Antonine  grabbed  the  score  and  started  off  down  the 
path,  but  suddenly  he  turned  about  and  rushed  at 
Florian  with  upraised  umbrella,  shrieking  in  a  voice 
half  stifled  with  rage, 

"  You  dirty  dog,  you !  I  have  to  thank  you  for 
this  —  You  talked  against  me !  Ah,  psia  Tcrew !  " 
And  raising  his  umbrella  on  high  he  aimed  a  furious 
blow  at  his  enemy's  head.  Florian  parried  it  with  his 
left  arm  and  instantly  countered  with  a  resounding  slap 
of  his  right  hand  across  Antonine's  face. 

"  What's  that,  you  miserable  cur  ? "  he  cried. 
"  What  did  you  say  ?  I  talked  against  you  to  the  Mas- 
ter ?  No,  no,  my  dear  boy,  there  was  no  need  of  that, 
after  such  filthy  music  as  you  write!  But  I'm  glad 
all  the  same  to  get  an  opportunity  to  give  you  the 
licking  I've  been  owing  you  for  breaking  your  word 
of  honor.  You'll  have  the  goodness  to  remember  that 
receipt,  I  hope  ?  All  right !  Now  I'll  just  square  our 
little  account !  "  And  at  the  same  time  by  way  of 
punctuation-marks  for  this  short  but  sharp  harangue, 
an  avalanche  of  slaps  and  punches  descended  upon  the 
handsome  Antonine.  First  his  hand  would  fly  to  his 
tingling  cheek  and  then  he  would  double  up  from  a 
blow  in  the  stomach  or  stagger  with  a  yell  of  pain  from 
a  punch  in  the  shoulder,  meanwhile  striking  out  wildly 
with  his  umbrella  at  his  opponent  or  endeavoring  to  de- 
fend himself  with  his  other  arm  against  Florian's 
blows.  At  last  Florian  yanked  the  umbrella  out  of  his 


The  Judgment  289 

hand,  gave  him  a  sounding  thwack  with  it  across  the 
back,  and  followed  this  up  with  a  well-directed  punch 
on  the  noble  nose,  from  which  the  red  blood  spurted. 
Then  he  felt  better. 

He  desisted  from  his  attack  and  looked  on  unmoved 
while  the  unfortunate  Antonine  picked  up  umbrella, 
hat,  and  the  tattered  manuscript  of  "  Finis  Poloniae  " 
from  the  ground,  and,  whimpering  and  cursing  with 
pain  and  anger,  wiped  his  bleeding  nose  with  his  dainty 
handkerchief. 

"  There !  "  cried  the  elated  Florian ;  "  you  owed  me 
ten  marks  and  I  owed  you  a  licking  —  now  we  two  are 
quits !  " 

Then,  seeing  pedestrians  approaching,  he  turned  and 
with  elastic  step  reascended  the  same  slope  by  which 
he  had  come.  Once  on  the  top  he  paused  a  bit  to  get 
his  breath.  He  was  in  extraordinarily  good  spirits, — 
exactly  as  though  he  had  done  some  especially  good 
deed.  He  thrust  his  hands  into  his  pockets  and 
strolled  on  whistling  contentedly.  He  tried  to  imagine 
the  joy  of  Antonine's  prospective  mother-in-law  at 
sight  of  her  darling  boy,  and  what  kind  of  an  account 
of  his  painful  adventure  he  would  give.  Thekla, 
Florian  made  no  manner  of  doubt,  would  send  up  a 
prayer  of  thanksgiving  that  her  hated  persecutor  had 
been  chastised  by  a  practiced  hand. 

But  Florian's  mirthful  humor  lasted  only  until  he 
arrived  at  the  entrance  of  the  Hofgartnerei ;  for  then 
it  suddenly  occurred  to  him  that  he  had  carried  out  his 
Master's  commission  in  a  most  extraordinary  manner. 
Without  doubt  the  good  old  gentleman  was  walking  up 
and  down  his  room  in  a  state  of  agitation,  bitterly  re- 
proaching himself  for  his  lack  of  self-control  and  anx- 


290  Florian  Mayr 

iously  awaiting  the  messenger  who  should  bring  him 
the  reassuring  news  that  the  insulted  one,  even  if  he 
had  not  granted  it,  had  at  least  received  the  Master's 
request  for  forgiveness.  And  now  Florian  had  to  re- 
port that,  in  addition  to  the  Master's  cuffs,  he  had  given 
the  fellow  a  sound  thrashing!  No,  that  would  not  do 
at  all.  In  that  case  it  would  be  no  wonder  if  he  got 
his  own  ears  boxed  for  his  pains.  He  was  suddenly 
overcome  by  an  absolutely  childish  fear,  and  he  slunk 
away  from  Liszt's  door  like  a  bad  boy,  who,  conscious 
of  having  done  wrong,  dares  not  come  into  the  presence 
of  his  teacher.  He  went  home,  threw  himself  on  the 
lounge  and  pondered. 

Something  less  than  half  an  hour  had  passed  with- 
out his  being  able  to  come  to  a  decision,  when  there 
came  a  knock  at  his  door,  and  in  response  to  his  "  come 
in,"  the  rotund  little  figure  of  Consul  Burmester  ap- 
peared upon  the  threshold.  Florian  jumped  up  from 
the  lounge  and  cried  in  a  tone  of  the  greatest  astonish- 
ment, "The  consul!" 

The  little  gentleman  came  forward  with  an  em- 
barrassed smile  and  said,  as  he  wiped  the  perspiration 
from  his  bald  spot  with  his  red  silk  handkerchief, 
"  Yes,  it  is,  indeed, —  it  may  appear  somewhat  strange 
to  you  that  I  have  taken  the  liberty  of  calling,  Herr 
Mayr,  but  —  er — " 

"  Oh,  then  you  know  already  ? "  exclaimed  Florian 
nonplussed. 

"Why,  of  course!"  replied  Herr  Burmester.  "I 
saw  you  at  the  station  and  yesterday  at  the  theater. 
The  head-waiter  found  out  your  address  for  me.  I  — 
the  fact  is  I  wanted  —  that  is  to  say,  my  wife 
thought —  I  really  never  had  anything  against  you, 


The  Judgment  291 

Herr  Mayr —  Bless  me,  that  trifling  —  what  shall  I 
call  it?  —  aberration  in  regard  to  my  daughter  was 
really  not  so  very  bad,  haha!  Of  course  my  wife  — 
well,  you  understand,  as  the  mother,  you  know  • — " 

Florian  put  an  end  to  the  consul's  stuttering  embar- 
rassment by  seating  him  in  his  place  on  the  sofa,  while 
he  himself  took  a  chair  opposite,  bending  far  over  the 
table  in  his  curiosity  to  learn  what  had  brought  the 
little  man  to  him. 

"  So  you  really  don't  know  about  it  yet  ? "  he  asked 
with  significant  emphasis. 

"  About  what  ?  "  inquired  the  consul.  "  Oh,  pos- 
sibly you  mean  the  accident  to  Herr  Prczewalski? 
Just  fancy,  the  poor  fellow  was  about  to  call  on  Liszt 
this  morning  to  ask  for  invitations  for  us  all  to  his 
soiree  this  evening,  when  he  stumbled  on  the  stairs  and 
fell  down  the  whole  flight,  think  of  that!  He  banged 
himself  up  terribly  and  had  to  go  to  bed  at  once.  You 
must  surely  have  heard  of  the  accident  ?  —  Yes,  and 
as  my  wife  has  set  her  heart  on  going  to  the  soiree,  I 
wanted  to  ask  you  if  you  wouldn't  have  the  great  kind- 
ness to  secure  invitations  for  us  ? " 

"Well,  my  dear  consul,"  replied  Florian  vastly 
amused,  "  I  fear  I  shall  not  be  able  to  do  much  in  that 
direction  either.  Matters  of  that  kind  are  usually  ar- 
ranged for  the  Master  by  the  ladies ;  but  I'll  do  what  I 
can  if  you  will  promise  me  to  bring  Fraulein  Thekla 
with  you  and  leave  Herr  Prczewalski  at  home." 

This  the  consul  promised  very  willingly  and  Florian 
took  him  at  once  to  the  Hofgartnerei.  He  left  him  in 
the  anteroom  while  he  himself  went  in  to  the  Master 
to  ask  for  the  invitations. 

Liszt  was  not  especially  pleased  at  the  interruption, 


292  Florian  Mayr 

and  listened  but  superficially  to  what  Florian  told  him 
about  his  pupil  and  her  parents,  the  enthusiastic  Berlin 
music-lovers,  and  immediately  put  his  name  to  a  card 
of  invitation  made  out  in  blank.  Florian  "was  on  the 
point  of  withdrawing,  when  Liszt  stopped  him  with  an 
inquiry  as  to  what  the  composer  of  "  Finis  Poloniae  " 
had  said  to  his  message. 

"  Oh,  sir,"  answered  Florian  crestfallen,  "  I  took  it 
to  him  all  right,  but  then  he  said  I  was  to  blame  for 
the  slaps  he  got  and  he  struck  me,  and  so  —  well  —  I 
punched  his  head  and  gave  him  such  a  jolly  good 
pounding  that  you  would  have  cried  for  joy,  sir !  " 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  Liszt,  knitting  his  brows.  But 
he  had  to  laugh  in  spite  of  himself.  He  playfully 
caught  the  gaunt  youth  by  the  ear  and  said,  "  Ah !  ah ! 
Florian,  Saint  Florian,  when  are  we  going  to  be  sensi- 
ble ?  Furor  teutonicus,  haha !  If  we  could  cure  every- 
body who  makes  bad  music  by  thrashing  him  we  should 
have  to  appoint  you  head  physician !  "  And  he  dis- 
missed him  with  a  gracious  smile. 

Beaming  with  joy  Florian  returned  to  the  anteroom, 
filled  in  the  names  upon  the  invitations  and  accom- 
panied the  consul  back  to  his  hotel.  On  the  way  he 
inquired  quite  casually  whether  Herr  Burmester  still 
had  the  paper  in  his  possession  that  Thekla  had  given 
him  at  Florian's  request  at  the  Countess  Tockenburg's 
soiree.  The  consul  remembered  this  incident  and  in- 
quired why  he  asked ;  whereupon  Florian  related  under 
what  circumstances  Prczewalski  had  signed  the  agree- 
ment, by  which  he  promised  on  his  word  of  honor  not 
to  give  Fraulein  Thekla  piano  lessons. 

"  And,  you  know,"  concluded  Florian,  "  there  was  an 


The  Judgment  293 

additional  verbal  clause  agreed  on,  to  the  effect  that, 
if  the  fine  gentleman  broke  his  word,  I  should  have  the 
right  to  call  him  a  low-lived  blackguard  and  thrash  him 
soundly.  Well,  and  so  this  morning  we  settled  the 
score.  Do  you  understand  the  story  about  falling  down 
stairs  now  ?  Oh,  yes,  hinc  illae  lacrimae !  " 

The  consul  stopped  short  and  looked  up  at  the  .lank 
youth  with  honest  admiration. 

"  You  gave  my  —  er  —  son-in-law  a  licking  ?  Why, 
that  is  —  splendid !  2s"o,  nonsense !  —  I  mean  —  that 
is,  I  don't  mind  telling  you  quite  confidentially,  I  ab- 
solutely loathe  the  fellow.  My  dear  Herr  Mayr,  what 
a  —  remarkable  person  you  are !  You  strike  my  daugh- 
ter and  since  that  time  she  worships  you.  You  thrash 
my  son-in-law  and  I  feel  like  embracing  you  for  it. 
I  shouldn't  wonder  if  you  thrashed  me  before  you  got 
through,  hahaha !  " 

"  May  well  be,  Herr  Consul,  may  well  be !  "  threat- 
ened Florian  playfully.  "  If  you  really  give  your 
daughter  to  that  dishrag  I  won't  take  any  responsi- 
bility!" 

"  I  don't  want  to  either ! "  cried  the  little  man 
earnestly,  thrusting  his  arm  through  Florian's.  "  If 
it  hadn't  been  for  me  they  would  probably  have  been 
married  already.  You  know,  my  wife  — "  he  subdued 
his  voice  to  a  whisper — "my  wife  insists  on  having 
an  artist  in  the  family,  and  for  some  extraordinary  rea- 
son she  expects  great  things  of  this  fellow,  because  he 
understands  how  to  worm  himself  into  the  best  families. 
And  then  there  is  another  reason.  Thekla  was  to  be 
a  musical  genius  at  any  price,  and,  since  nothing  at  all 
has  come  of  that,  my  wife  can't  abide  the  poor  girl 


294  Florian  Mayr 

any  more  and  would  like  to  get  rid  of  her  as  soon  as 
possible.  After  all  she  is  not  her  own  mother  —  I  am 
not  her  own  father  either;  we  merely  adopted  her." 

"  Indeed !  "  cried  Florian  in  astonishment. 

"  But  she  is  really  such  a  good  child,  and  I  love  her 
as  if  she  were  my  own !  " 

"Of  course,  and  you  won't  give  her  to  that  idiot, 
will  you  ? "  cried  Florian  earnestly. 

"  Sh !  "  said  the  consul  apprehensively.  "  You  are 
not  married,  my  young  friend;  you  don't  know  what 
sacrifices  a  man  will  consent  to  in  order  to  have  peace 
and  quiet  in  the  house ! " 

"  Do  you  know,  Herr  Consul,"  exclaimed  Florian, 
"  I^hink  I  know  what  I'd  do  if  my  wife  disturbed  my 
peace  like  that !  "  And  he  made  a  very  significant 
gesture. 

They  had  now  arrived  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
"Russischer  Hof."  The  consul  looked  round  on  all 
sides  and  up  at  the  windows  of  the  hotel.  He  evidently 
feared  that  his  wife  would  be  angry  if  she  saw  him 
talking  in  such  a  confidential  manner  with  Herr  Mayr. 
He  took  a  markedly  hasty  leave  of  Florian  and  thanked 
him  once  more  for  the  invitations. 

Florian  shook  his  hand  cordially  and  said,  "  Please 
give  my  very  best  regards  to  Fraulein  Thekla,  and  tell 
her  I  shall  be  awfully  glad  to  see  her  to-night.  Now, 
sir,  if  there's  any  way  in  which  I  can  be  of  service  to 
you  —  it  needn't  be  exactly  by  thrashing  anybody,  you 
know, —  what  little  I  can  do  is  always  yours  to  com- 
mand, if  it  will  do  Fraulein  Thekla  any  good."  And 
so  saying  he  took  off  his  hat  with  an  airy  flourish  and 
strolled  home  well  content. 

He  looked  forward  to  the  evening  with  childish  an- 


The  Judgment  295 

ticipation.  What  would  Frau  Bunnester  say  when 
she  learned  whom  her  chosen  son-in-law  had  to  thank 
for  his  swollen  nose  and  his  black  and  blue  spots  ?  If 
the  consul  should  not  pluck  up  courage  to  tell  her,  she 
should  hear  about  it  this  evening  from  Florian's  own 
lips.  First  she  should  thank  him  in  due  form  for  the 
invitation,  and  then  he  would  describe  to  her  how  he 
had  chastised  the  handsome  Antonine.  Oh,  he  would 
revel  in  her  rage !  And  he  would  stick  to  Thekla  like 
a  burr.  They  might  do  what  they  liked  but  they  should 
not  shake  him  off. 

As  seven  o'clock  approached,  the  hour  at  which  the 
soiree  at  Liszt's  was  to  begin,  a  feverish  impatience 
seized  upon  Florian.  Half-past  six  found  him  ready 
for  the  fray,  combed  and  shaved  and  attired  in  evening 
dress  and  white  tie,  and  from  that  time  he  looked  at 
his  watch  every  five  minutes  to  see  whether  it  wasn't 
yet  time  to  go.  At  ten  minutes  to  seven  he  could  not 
longer  control  his  impatience  and  rushed  over  to  the 
Hofgartnerei  as  if  he  feared  he  was  already  behind 
time.  Of  course  he  was  the  first  to  arrive;  in  fact 
more  than  twenty  minutes  passed  before  the  first 
guests  appeared.  Meanwhile  he  arranged  with  Liszt 
that  he  should  play  one  of  the  Master's  Rhapsodies  in 
place  of  Fraulein  Ilonka  Badacs,  who  shortly  before 
had  asked  to  be  excused. 

"  She  has  probably  gone  on  another  urgent  little 
trip !  "  added  Liszt,  regarding  Florian  with  a  quizzical 
smile.  The  young  man  blushed  a  little,  to  be  sure, 
but  nevertheless  made  out  to  smile  in  his  turn,  where- 
upon the  Master  pressed  his  hand  and  exclaimed  with 
satisfaction,  "Ah,  I  see  you  have  fought  it  down! 
Bravo,  my  son !  " 


296  Florian  Mayr 

Towards  half-past  seven  appeared  the  Grand  Duke, 
the  Hereditary  Grand  Duke  and  consort  and  the 
Princess  Elizabeth,  together  with  several  ladies  and 
gentlemen  of  their  household.  Liszt  introduced  to  the 
sovereigns  a  number  of  guests  of  honor  and  also  several 
of  his  pupils,  the  last  being  his  faithful  Saint  Florian, 
whom  he  recommended  warmly  to  the  Grand  Duke,  in 
consequence  of  which  the  latter  said  several  kind  things 
to  the  young  Bayreuther  and  expressed  the  hope  to  hear 
a  demonstration  of  his  art  in  the  course  of  the  evening. 
Florian  stepped  back  with  a  deep  bow  from  before  the 
Grand  Duke,  and,  as  he  turned  round,  found  himself 
standing  just  in  front  of  Consul  Burmester  and  his 
wife,  who  had  pressed  forward,  in  order,  if  possible, 
to  catch  something  of  what  the  Grand  Duke  was  saying. 

Before  Florian  could  open  his  mouth  to  say  "  good 
evening,"  Frau  Burmester  spoke  to  him  in  a  tone  of  icy 
politeness  with  a  sour,  affected  smile. 

"  We  are  very  much  obliged  to  you,  Herr  Mayr,  for 
the  invitations  to  this  interesting  evening.  To  be  sure 
it  was  only  a  trifle  for  you;  I  see  you  are  in  great 
favor  here." 

"  Me  ?  Oh,  thank  you,  I  can't  complain,"  answered 
Florian  indifferently.  "  But  where  is  your  daughter, 
please?  I  don't  see  Fraulein  Thekla!  " 

With  a  smile  of  the  purest  malice  Frau  Burmester 
replied,  "No,  my  daughter  regrets  deeply  to  have  to 
give  up  meeting  her  stern  master  again,  but  she  found 
herself  really  unable  to  accompany  us." 

"  Why,  what's  the  meaning  of  that  ? "  exclaimed 
Florian,  flaring  up.  He  measured  the  little  consul  with 
a  look  that  said  plainly,  "  Is  that  the  way  you  keep 
your  promise  ?  "  And,  as  the  poor  man  could  answer 


The  Judgment  297 

only  with  a  helpless  gesture  of  regret,  he  turned  again 
to  Frau  Olga  and  said  in  a  low  but  distinct  voice, 
"Aha,  now  I  understand,  madam,  Fraulein  Thekla 
is  obliged  to  stay  at  home  and  nurse  dear  Antonine! 
I  wonder  whether  the  model  young  man  told  you  how 
the  Master  expressed  his  opinion  on  the  subject  of 
'  Poland's  End '  ?  Well,  I  gave  him  mine  in  very 
plain  hand-writing,  or  rather  fist-writing  to  take  home 
with  him  —  beautifully  black  and  blue,  and  a  bleeding 
nose  for  an  exclamation-point  at  the  end!  And  I  put 
my  trade-mark  on  both  his  cheeks  right  under  the  Mas- 
ter's whacks !  "  And  he  held  up  his  gigantic  hand 
with  the  fingers  spread  out. 

The  Frau  Consul  turned  pale  under  her  rouge.  Her 
eyes  flashed  green  like  a  cat's  in  the  dark,  and  she  hissed 
at  Florian  in  fury,  "  You  dared  to  lay  hands  on  our 
son-in-law  ?  Incredible !  If  we  had  known  that,  we 
certainly  would  not  have  stooped  to  request  you  to 
assist  us !  You  will  have  to  answer  to  the  law  for  this 
assault  —  my  husband  will  see  to  that !  And  I  will 
have  the  matter  published  in  the  newspapers!  Come, 
Willy,  from  now  on  this  person  does  not  exist  for  us !  " 
So  saying  she  grasped  the  arm  of  her  husband,  who  mur- 
mured something  incoherent,  and  steered  him  through 
the  crowd  to  the  other  side  of  the  drawing-room. 

Florian  stood  quite  a  while  in  the  same  place,  gazing 
after  the  pair  with  a  smile  of  grim  derision.  He 
neither  saw  nor  heard  what  was  going  on  round  him. 
He  reflected  —  and  suddenly  his  mind  was  made  up. 
The  Grand  Ducal  party  sat  down  and  the  other  guests 
followed  their  example,  as  many  as  could  find  seats.  A 
half  circle  was  formed  round  the  grand  piano.  The 
concert  was  clearly  about  to  begin. 


298  Florian  Mayr 

Florian  hurried  up  to  Liszt  just  as  he  was  on  the 
point  of  asking  a  lady  to  go  to  the  piano,  and  begged 
him  excitedly  to  allow  him  to  play  first.  Liszt  gazed 
at  him  in  surprise. 

''Why,  what's  the  matter,  my  dear  boy?  You  are 
all  wrought  up !  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  hardly  know  myself  —  the  heat  —  I 
don't  feel  so  very  well  —  I  shall  have  to  go  home  pretty 
soon!" 

"  Hm,  hm !  A  little  shaky  from  last  night  and  the 
excitement  of  this  morning  —  pchah,  I  understand ! 
Well,  as  you  like!  You  are  trembling!  Oho,  stage- 
fright,  Florian  ? " 

"  No,  Master,  I  am  all  right  now,  but  later  — " 

And  so  the  Master  accompanied  him  to  the  piano. 
Silence  ensued  immediately,  and  Florian  struck  the 
keys.  He  developed  an  astonishing  amount  of  power, 
the  wrathful  irritation  that  had  put  his  nerves  on  edge 
coming  out  in  his  playing  in  the  form  of  tempestuous 
passion.  The  more  delicate  passages,  to  be  sure,  were 
less  successful,  and  once  or  twice  he  even  struck  a 
totally  wrong  note.  Nevertheless  the  impression  made 
by  the  performance  as  a  whole  was  overwhelming  and 
he  was  rewarded  with  great  applause.  Several  en- 
thusiastic flatterers  even  compared  his  playing  to  that 
of  Rubinstein,  and  he  also  received  flattering  recogni- 
tion from  the  members  of  the  Grand  Ducal  party. 
Liszt  took  him  aside  and  whispered  jocosely,  "  Well, 
well,  Saint  Florian,  you  have  put  your  hands  in  the 
wrong  place  more  than  once  to-day!  No  doubt  you 
fancied  you  had  the  Polish  composer  with  the  long  name 
in  front  of  you  —  you  banged  the  keys  so  mercilessly ! 


The  Judgment  299 

But  all  the  same  —  bravo !  "  With  that  he  gave  the 
young  man  a  light  slap  on  the  shoulder  and  let  him  go. 

As  soon  as  the  next  piece  had  begun  Florian  retired 
to  the  anteroom,  and,  the  moment  he  saw  no  one  was 
looking,  slipped  out.  He  sprang  down  the  stairs  as 
if  he  were  being  chased,  and  ran,  rather  than  walked, 
to  the  "  Eussischer  Hof."  There  he  got  from  the  porter 
the  number  of  the  Burmesters'  rooms,  learned  that  the 
Fraulein  was  at  home  and  ascended  the  stairs  with 
beating  heart.  He  waited  in  the  corridor  until  he  got 
hold  of  a  chambermaid,  whom  he  took  aside  cautiously, 
and,  putting  a  thaler  into  her  hand,  sent  to  find  out 
whether  Thekla  was  alone  in  her  room  or  in  the  com- 
pany of  Herr  Prczewalski. 

The  maid  nodded  intelligently  and  began  by  going 
into  the  Burmesters'  sitting-room  after  knocking  and 
hearing  the  words,  "  Come  in."  In  a  few  seconds  she 
reappeared  giggling  and  reported  to  Florian  that  the 
Polish  gentleman  was  standing  at  the  door  of  the 
Fraulein' s  bed-room  trying  to  look  through  the  key- 
hole, and  was  begging  the  Fraulein  piteously  to  unlock 
the  door  or  to  come  in  to  him  again.  He  was  so  ex- 
cited that  he  didn't  notice  he  was  being  watched. 
Florian  then  told  the  girl  to  knock  at  Thekla's  door. 

"  Who's  there  ?  "  asked  a  voice  from  within. 

"  The  chambermaid !  " 

Quick  steps  were  heard  and  then  the  bolt  was  drawn 
back  inside.  Then  Florian  came  forward  quickly, 
pushed  the  maid  aside,  tiptoed  across  the  threshold, 
and  stood  in  Thekla's  room.  Taking  off  his  hat  with 
a  low,  "  God  bless  you,  Fraulein !  "  he  held  out  his 
open  arms  to  her.  She  started  back  with  a  low  cry, 


300  Florian  Mayr 

clasped  her  head  in  both  hands  and  gazed  up  at  him 
in  charming  confusion. 

"  Oh,  Herr  Mayr !  "  she  murmured  in  such  a  genuine 
tone  of  the  most  joyful  surprise  that  Florian's  heart 
was  in  his  mouth.  He  went  a  step  nearer  —  and  then 
all  at  once  her  dark  little  head  lay  on  his  shoulder  and 
her  body  shook  with  a  succession  of  sobs. 

He  bent  her  head  back  gently  with  both  hands,  looked 
lovingly  into  her  eyes,  and  whispered,  "Please  don't 
cry  now,  dear  girl  —  I  will  help  you !  " 

Then  the  tears  gushed  from  her  eyes  and  she  sobbed 
aloud,  "  Oh,  I'm  so  awfully  unhappy !  " 

Florian  was  about  to  say  more  words  of  comfort 
when  a  loud  sniffling  and  snorting  was  heard  from  the 
other  side  of  the  sitting-room  door.  And  then 
Prczewalski  called  out,  in  an  oddly  constrained  voice 
that  evidently  came  through  a  swollen  nose,  "  Thekla 
darling,  my  little  heart,  why  cry  then  ?  Merciful 
Father,  just  come  in  here !  I  will  be  so  good  to  you !  " 

Thekla  freed  herself  from  Florian's  arms,  stamped 
angrily  with  her  foot  and  whispered  softly,  "  Come 
away  quick !  I  know  what  I'll  do !  " 

"  I  know  what  we'll  do  too !  "  replied  Florian  just  as 
softly.  "  Put  on  your  prettiest  evening  gown  —  I  will 
wait  downstairs  and  then  I'll  take  you  to  Liszt  in  tri- 
umph !  Lord,  that'll  be  a  lark !  How  Frau  Bur- 
mester  will  stare !  I'll  take  all  the  consequences  —  no- 
body shall  touch  you !  " 

"  No,  no,  that  won't  do !  "  exclaimed  Thekla,  shak- 
ing her  head  energetically.  "  "What  good  will  that  do  ? 
I'm  going  away  and  never  coming  back!  There,  my 
bag  is  already  packed !  "  She  seized  a  small  valise  al- 
ready locked,  thrust  it  into  Florian's  hands  and  said, 


The  Judgment  301 

as  she  pushed  him  towards  the  door,  "  Go,  please  I 
Take  that  for  me !  Wait  for  me  at  the  station  —  I'll 
come  right  after  you !  " 

He  tried  to  make  objections,  to  ask  questions,  but  she 
only  motioned  him  the  more  strenuously  towards  the 
door,  so  that  there  was  nothing  for  him  to  do  but  to 
obey  her  and  steal  away  as  noiselessly  as  possible  with 
the  bag. 

Over  opposite  the  hotel  in  the  shadow  of  the  trees  he 
waited,  but  before  five  minutes  had  passed  he  saw 
Thekla  come  out.  He  allowed  her  to  get  a  short  start 
and  then  caught  up  with  her  with  giant  strides.  She 
started  with  fright  and  at  first  would  not  hear  of  his 
walking  at  her  side.  But  he  was  able  to  reassure  her 
by  the  reminder,  that  she  had  almost  no  acquaintances 
at  all  in  the  place  and  his  were  gathered  almost  without 
exception  at  the  Liszt  soiree.  He  also  endeavored,  as 
they  walked  along,  to  persuade  her  to  adopt  his  original 
plan  and  appear  suddenly  at  the  soiree  leaning  on  his 
arm.  He  had  painted  for  himself  the  disconcerting 
effect  on  the  Frau  Consul  of  such  a  stroke  of  genius  in 
such  fascinating  colors,  that  he  was  loath  to  give  up 
the  idea.  But  Thekla  objected,  quite  reasonably,  that 
the  consequences  of  such  an  exploit  could  only  be 
calamitous  for  her.  Her  mother  would  only  be  much 
stricter  with  her,  and  whether  the  humiliation  to  which 
Florian  had  subjected  her  fiance  would  be  sufficient  to 
break  off  the  engagement, —  that  was  very  doubtful,  to 
say  the  least,  although,  it  was  true,  even  her  mother  had 
begun  to  be  dissatisfied  with  Prczewalski  of  late. 

"  What,  you  are  surely  not  publicly  betrothed  ?  "  ex- 
claimed Florian  incredulously. 

"  Oh,  dear,  yes !  "  replied  Thekla  quite  mournfully. 


302  Morian  Mayr 

"  Please,  please,  Herr  Mayr,  don't  think  ill  of  me  for 
that !  Of  course  I  can't  abide  the  man,  but  mamma 
gave  me  no  peace.  She  said  I  needn't  think,  with  my 
parentage  and  my  lack  of  talent,  that  I  could  sit  down 
and  wait  for  a  prince.  She  threw  it  up  at  me  just 
as  meanly  as  she  could  that  I  was  the  daughter  of  a 
chambermaid  and  a  traveling  musician ;  and  I  might 
at  least  show  my  gratitude  for  all  she  had  done  for  me 
by  leaving  the  choice  of  a  suitable  husband  to  her. 
With  my  born  love  of  frivolity  and  my  liking  for  com- 
mon people  I  might  be  expected  to  do  all  sorts  of  silly 
things.  Oh,  Herr  Mayr,  I  ask  you  —  you  know  me 
too  —  I  am  not  frivolous  one  little  bit,  am  I  ?  " 

"  You  poor  little  girl !  "  was  all  that  Florian  said  in 
reply. 

And  Thekla,  happy  to  be  able  at  last  to  pour  out  her 
heart,  continued  with  animation, 

"Papa  was  always  on  my  side  and  at  first  he 
wouldn't  hear  of  the  engagement,  but  in  the  long  run 
nobody  can  stand  against  mamma.  At  last  I  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  anything  would  be  better  than  this 
terrible  state  of  things  in  the  house,  that's  not  my  own 
parents'  house.  It's  true,  I  did  think  of  running  away, 
but  how  could  I  have  supported  myself  alone  ?  In  spite 
of  all  the  expensive  lessons  I  never  learned  anything  by 
which  I  could  earn  a  living,  and  mamma  warned  me 
often  enough  that  I  shouldn't  have  a  penny  from  home 
if  I  didn't  obey  her  in  every  way.  Then  I  must  con- 
fess, I  haven't  much  courage ;  why,  I've  never  in  my  life 
been  allowed  to  do  anything  alone.  Everything  I  liked 
to  do  was  forbidden,  and  everything  that  I  was  allowed 
to  do  I  had  to  do  by  rule  and  while  they  were  watching 
me.  Of  course  that  makes  one  as  dependent  as  a  child. 


The  Judgment  303 

Prczewalski  was  quite  nice  to  me  too,  as  far  as  that's 
concerned.  He  promised  me  on  his  honor  that,  as  his 
wife,  I  should  do  just  as  I  liked.  I  shouldn't  have  to 
play  the  piano  any  more  and  was  to  have  two  hundred 
marks  a  month  pocket-money,  without  anybody  even 
asking  how  I  spent  it.  And  all  the  other  girls  thought 
he  was  such  a  good-looking  man  and  so  very  dangerous 
for  the  ladies  —  they  all  fell  in  love  with  him.  So  at 
last  I  concluded  that  I  didn't  understand  about  such 
things  and  that  it  would  be  all  right  afterwards  —  well, 
and  so  at  last  I  said  yes !  " 

"  Good  Lord,  it's  incredible ! "  exclaimed  Florian 
through  his  teeth,  doubling  up  his  fist.  "  I'll  tell  you 
what  we'll  do,  Fraulein  Thekla  —  we'll  put  an  an- 
nouncement in  all  the  big  newspapers :  '  I  declare 
herewith  that  my  engagement  to  Herr  Antonine 
Prczewalski  is  broken  off. —  Thekla  Burmester ! ' 
Period  —  blotter  —  all  over !  " 

"  No,  no,  that'll  never  do !  " 

"  Of  course  it'll  do;  why  not?  " 

"  Oh,  Herr  Mayr,  you  must  know  what  I  mean ! 
He's  —  why,  he's  —  already  kissed  me !  " 

"  Oh,  blessed  simplicity !  "  laughed  Florian,  quite 
touched.  "  And  so  you  think  now  the  compact  is  as  good 
as  signed  and  sealed  ?  " 

Thekla  looked  at  him  dubiously  out  of  the  corners  of 
her  eyes. 

"  Why,  a  girl  mustn't  allow  anybody  else  but  her 
fiance  to  kiss  her !  "  she  said  doubtfully.  "  And  if  he 
isn't  my  fiance  any  more  I  shall  be  ashamed  that  I  let 
him  kiss  me." 

"  Oh,  you  dear  good  child !  "  laughed  Florian.  "  If 
kissing  were  such  a  terrible  sin,  what  would  you  think 


304  Florian  Mayr 

of  the  widows,  who  have  even  had  children  and  still  set 
their  caps  for  another  husband,  that  is,  if  they're  under 
eighty?  You've  heard  of  widows  marrying  again, 
haven't  you  ?  I've  even  heard  it  was  much  wiser  to 
marry  a  pretty  widow  than  some  young  girl  that  doesn't 
know  anything  about  life  or  anything  else." 

"  Oh,  you  mustn't  think  I'm  so  stupid,  Herr  Mayr !  " 
cried  Thekla  with  droll  eagerness.  "  Until  I  was  en- 
gaged I  didn't  know  anything  and  had  awfully  silly 
notions;  but  afterwards  our  Marie  —  you  know  her 
too  —  told  me  everything.  And  from  that  time  I 
couldn't  have  my  fiance  so  much  as  touch  me  without 
shuddering.  Even  before  that  it  was  always  so  dis- 
agreeable when  he  even  gave  me  his  hand, —  it  felt 
like  a  dead,  flabby  lump  —  ugh !  He  couldn't  give  me 
a  good  grip,  like  an  honest,  healthy  person.  And 
when  he  wanted  to  kiss  me  he  always  went  this  way, 
'  khn,  khn  —  you  will  give  a  sweet  little  kiss,  my  little 
heart  —  khn  ? '  After  a  while  it  made  me  quite  ill  and 
I  wouldn't  let  him  kiss  me  any  more.  I'm  sure  I've 
heard,  and  read  too,  so  much  about  love  and  all  that, 
but  I  never  heard  anything  about  men  saying  '  khn  — 
khn ! '  when  they  kiss  a  girl !  Oh,  dear,  and  when  I 
think  of  traveling  alone  with  that  man  and  —  all 
that  —  no  indeed,  I'll  drown  myself  first !  " 

They  had  arrived  in  front  of  the  railway  station  and 
Florian,  who  could  have  listened  much  longer  to  her 
delightfully  childish  confessions,  remarked  with  a  sigh, 

"Well,  here  we  are  at  the  station.  What  now? 
Where  do  you  want  to  go?  Do  you  know  anyhow  if 
there's  a  train  ?  " 

"  Oh,  dear,  no,  I  haven't  looked  up  the  trains,"  re- 
plied Thekla  crestfallen,  as  she  looked  about  fearfully 


The  Judgment  305 

in  all  directions  and  made  for  the  darkest  corner  in  the 
waiting-room.  "  I  thought  I  would  go  to  my  friend 
Erna  von  Goldammer.  You  see  we  were  school  friends 
and  still  write  to  each  other.  She  knows  all  about  it, 
and  said  too,  that  I  shouldn't  let  myself  be  forced  into 
it.  She's  a  painter  now  and  lives  all  alone  in  Munich ; 
that  is,  she's  studying  painting,  you  know.  I'm  sure  she 
could  take  me  in  and  hide  me  better  than  anybody !  " 

"Hm,  yes,  that  wouldn't  be  at  all  bad,"  assented 
Florian ;  "  but  do  you  know  whether  she's  at  home  now  ? 
At  this  season  the  painters  are  mostly  in  the  country. 
What'll  you  do  in  Munich  all  alone  if  your  friend  isn't 
there?"' 

"  Oh,  dear,  yes,  she  did  write  that  she  was  going 
away  soon !  " 

"  Have  you  got  enough  money  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  she  replied  dejectedly.  "  I  haven't  much 
money,  only  about  thirty  marks.  But  I've  got  all  my 
jewelry  with  me." 

"  I'm  afraid  a  ticket  to  Munich  alone  costs  more  than 
thirty  marks,  and  the  conductor  wouldn't  take  gold 
bracelets !  Don't  you  think  the  best  thing  would  be  to 
telegraph  to  Fraulein  Erna  and  find  out  whether  she's 
at  home  or  not  ?  " 

"  Oh,  but  dear  Herr  Mayr,  I  can't  wait !  "  wailed 
Thekla  anxiously,  grasping  his  arm.  "  Just  think 
what  will  become  of  me  if  they  catch  us  here! 
Prczewalski  will  surely  find  out  soon  that  I've  gone. 
And  if  he  asks  the  hotel  people  —  they  saw  you  go  out 
with  the  hand-bag  and  me  right  afterwards  —  of  course 
they'll  look  for  me  here  at  the  station  first.  Who 
knows  whether  he  hasn't  already  fetched  papa  and 
mamma  from  the  soiree !  We  walked  so  awfully  slow ! 


306  Florian  Mayr 

No,  no,  we  must  take  the  very  next  train  —  no  matter 
where  it  goes !  " 

"  We !  "  cried  Florian  perplexed.  "  You  really  want 
me  to  run  away  with  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  dear  good  Herr  Mayr,  you  surely  won't  leave 
me  all  alone!  I'm  so  afraid  and  I  don't  know  at  all 
what  to  do !  " 

Florian  stood  irresolute  and  pointed  to  his  evening 
dress. 

"  But,  my  dear  girl,  I  can't  very  well  go  traveling 
about  like  this.  Wait  here  in  some  restaurant  near  by. 
I'll  drive  home  quickly,  jump  into  another  suit  and 
pack  up  at  least  a  few  things  for  the  night ;  for  we  shall 
have  to  stay  over  night  somewhere." 

"  Oh,  please,  please,"  begged  Thekla,  looking  up  at 
him  with  her  beautiful  eyes  full  of  tears,  "  if  you  love 
me  just  a  little  bit  don't  leave  me  alone,  I'm  so  fright- 
ened !  We  needn't  go  far  —  only  somewhere  where 
we  can  wait  for  an  answer  from  Munich  to-morrow  and 
pawn  my  things.  Why  don't  you  want  to  travel  in 
evening  dress?  You  look  so  nice  in  evening  dress, — 
and  I  can  lend  you  some  tooth-powder !  " 

This  last  argument  was  of  course  decisive.  Florian 
was  so  enchanted  with  her  charming  naivete  and  her 
perfect  trustfulness  that,  in  spite  of  all  spectators,  he 
took  her  in  his  arms  and  pressed  her  to  his  heart. 
"  You  darling  girl,  you !  "  he  whispered.  "  Yes,  I'll 
go  with  you !  " 

Then  he  consulted  the  time-table  and  found  that  a 
train  would  leave  in  ten  minutes  for  Jena,  Saalfeld, 
and  further  south  to  Bavaria.  He  bought  two  first- 
class  tickets  for  Jena  and  at  once  got  into  the  train  with 
his  tearful  companion.  The  ten  minutes  seemed  hor- 


The  Judgment  307 

ribly  long  to  both  of  them.  She  would  not  allow  him 
to  sit  beside  her,  but  huddled  in  the  farthest  corner  and 
completely  enveloped  her  face  with  the  black  veil  that 
encircled  her  pretty  felt  hat  She  started  every  time  a 
hasty  step  approached  or  a  loud  word  was  spoken  out- 
side. She  trembled  all  over  with  fear  and  clasped  her 
hands  tightly  in  her  lap  in  an  effort  to  control  herself. 
Her  nervousness  affected  Florian.  He  was  obliged  to 
confess  to  himself  that  the  cause  of  her  apprehension 
was  a  very  real  one.  Her  idea  of  the  situation  was  en- 
tirely logical.  If  Herr  Prczewalski  was  not  altogether 
too  great  an  ass  it  was  really  almost  too  much  to  hope, 
that  they  should  get  away  unseen.  And  then,  besides 
all  that,  the  delightful  prospect  of  journeying  out  into 
the  falling  summer  night  all  alone  with  this  darling, 
enchanting  little  creature!  It  was  no  wonder  that 
Florian  trembled  with  excitement  exactly  like  the  help- 
less little  maiden  opposite  him. 

At  last  their  agony  was  over.  The  train-doors  were 
slammed  to,  hurried  steps  craunched  over  the  gravel  and 
then  followed  the  shrill  whistle  of  the  guard. 

"  Thank  the  Lord !  "  cried  Florian  with  a  deep  sigh 
of  relief.  But  in  the  very  moment  that  the  first  jerk 
of  the  locomotive  was  felt  there  suddenly  arose  out  on 
the  platform  a  loud  clamor  of  men's  voices :  "  Halt ! 
Hold  up !  Stop  the  train !  " 

With  a  cry  Thekla  started  from  her  seat  and  staggered 
over  to  Florian. 

"Oh,  my  God!  My  God!  — Don't  forsake  me!" 
she  stammered,  half  dead  with  fright,  as  she  clung  to 
him  hysterically. 

Suddenly  there  arose  before  the  window  a  pair  of 
peering  eyes  and  the  door-latch  was  turned.  Florian 


308  Florian  Mayr 

turned  his  face  away  quickly  in  order  not  to  be  recog- 
nized, and  involuntarily  put  his  two  big  hands  round 
the  waist  of  the  trembling  girl,  who  clung  to  him 
so  tightly. 

"  Keep  back  there  —  that's  first  class !  "  rang  out  the 
voice  of  the  guard.  The  head  disappeared  from  the 
window,  the  door  of  the  next  compartment  was  banged 
to  —  and  the  train  proceeded  on  its  way. 

It  was  several  minutes  before  Thekla  dared  to  raise 
her  head  and  look  cautiously  about  her.  "  What  was 
that  ?  "  she  whispered,  still  fearful. 

"  Nothing  at  all ;  a  couple  that  came  late !  "  an- 
swered Florian  merrily.  "  Prczewalski  was  a  jackass 
after  all  —  hurrah !  You  see,  now  we've  got  away  from 
them  beautifully !  Oh,  Thekla,  sweetheart,  isn't  run- 
ning away  just  gorgeous  ?  Come,  give  me  a  kiss !  " 

And  the  good  girl  obediently  presented  to  him  with- 
out a  word  her  sweet  little  mouth.  And  all  the  way  to 
Jena  they  did  nothing  else  but  kiss  and  call  each  other 
. "  Thekla  —  Florian  —  Florian  —  Thekla !  "  And  this 
was  quite  sufficient  to  convince  these  two  clever  beings 
that  they  loved  each  other  dearly  and  that  they  could 
do  nothing  more  sensible  than  to  accept  the  natural  con- 
sequences of  this  astonishing  discovery  I 


CHAPTER  XV 
An  Escapade 

To  lovers  who  find  themselves  alone  together  for  the 
first  time,  one  hour  seems  pitifully  short.  When  the 
guard  opened  the  door  and  in  cheery  tones  called  their 
attention  to  the  fact  that  they  were  in  Jena,  they  re- 
fused to  believe  it.  Thekla  blushed  scarlet  beneath  the 
sly  smiling  glance  of  the  polite  official  who  would  not 
permit  her  companion,  the  fine  gentleman  in  evening 
dress,  to  burden  himself  with  her  hand-bag.  She 
wrapped  her  black  veil  carefully  about  her  head  and 
tripped  lightly  to  the  platform  behind  Florian.  It 
was  nearly  nine  o'clock  and  already  fairly  dark;  be- 
sides so  far  as  they  were  aware  there  was  not  a  soul  in 
Jena  whom  they  knew,  so  they  walked  towards  the  exit 
arm  in  arm  quite  unconcerned.  Florian  did  not  think 
it  worth  the  trouble  even  to  button  up  his  overcoat,  al- 
though a  traveler  in  evening  dress  with  a  hand-bag  in 
his  hand  could  not  fail  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  in- 
habitants of  a  small  town. 

On  the  open  square  in  front  of  the  station  the  porters 
of  the  various  hotels  vied  eagerly  with  one  another  to 
secure  this  unusual  pair.  Florian  was  on  the  point  of 
selecting  the  famous  old  "  Black  Bear  Inn," —  the  inn 
where  once  Dr.  Luther  was  found  with  sword  and 
psalter  on  the  table  before  him, —  when  with  a  gesture 
of  alarm  and  a  suppressed  ""  Donnerwetter  "  he  turned 
suddenly  left  about,  tore  the  bag  out  of  the  porter's 


310         %  Florian  Mayr 

hands,  and,  dragging  the  astonished  Thekla  after  him, 
began  to  walk  rapidly  down  the  street  leading  to  the 
town. 

"  Oh,  dear,  oh,  dear,  what  in  the  world's  the  mat- 
ter ?  "  asked  Thekla  anxiously,  trotting  along  at  his  side. 

But  he  did  not  answer  until,  about  a  hundred  paces 
away  from  the  station,  he  looked  cautiously  around  and 
made  sure  that  they  were  not  followed.  "  Why,  what 
do  you  suppose!  There  were  four  Weimar  people  at 
the  station, —  they  must  have  been  in  the  train  with 
us, —  two  Lisztites  and  the  two  boys  of  that  crazy  Eng- 
lishman that  lives  in  the  same  house  I  do.  Now  I'd 
like  to  know  what  they  want  in  Jena  at  this  time  of 
night, —  especially  the  English  lads  who  are  never  al- 
lowed to  go  out  without  their  father !  I  suppose  they've 
run  away  too.  Herrgottsacra,  what  if  they  recognized 
me!" 

"  Oh,  they  didn't  recognize  you,"  cried  Thekla  care- 
lessly, "  it's  already  quite  dark.  Besides  no  one  has 
got  anything  to  say  to  you ;  you  can  do  as  you  please." 

"  Yes,  but  I  mustn't  compromise  you,"  replied  Flo- 
rian still  much  concerned.  "  It's  got  to  appear  as  if 
you  ran  away  alone  or  else  it  will  have  a  very  queer 
look  both  to  your  parents  and  everybody  else." 

Brave  like  all  women  in  the  first  glow  of  love,  Thekla 
laughed :  "  Oh,  nonsense,  it's  all  the  same  to  me  now ! 
I'm  so  happy  that  I've  got  you  with  me !  If  you  hadn't 
come  to-day,  I  believe,  I'd  never  have  screwed  up  the 
courage  to  start  off.  I'd  have  packed  my  satchel  and 
sat  down  alongside  of  it  and  cried  until  papa  and 
mamma  had  come  home.  Well,  and  then,  in  the  end, 
perhaps, —  you  see,  just  in  despair  I  might  have  mar- 
ried that  horrid  man !  " 


An  Escapade  311 

"  You  would,  in  spite  of  your  love  for  me  ?  Well,  I 
thank  you  kindly !  "  said  Florian  teasingly. 

"Now,  listen  to  me,"  explained  Thekla  with  droll 
earnestness,  clinging  still  more  closely  to  his  arm, 
"  Why,  I  didn't  even  know  that  I  loved  you.  For  a 
long  time  I  felt  something  or  other  but  I  was  afraid 
to  own  it  even  to  myself.  For  me  you  were  always  the 
strict  Herr  Mayr,  my  respected  teacher.  And  after- 
wards when  you  were  so  kind  to  me  and  helped  me  and 
promised  to  beat  all  the  horrid  piano  people,  then  I  put 
all  my  trust  in  you;  but  that  was  only  gratitude,  it 
wasn't  just  exactly  real  love! " 

"  Well,  to  be  sure,  of  course  not,"  rejoined  Florian 
merrily.  "  Now  tell  me,  what  was  it  made  this  real 
love  come  so  suddenly  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you !  Don't  ask  me  such  questions !  "  she 
pouted,  snuggling  up  to  him  lovingly.  "  I'd  never 
have  thought  that  you  really  and  truly  cared  anything 
about  me  at  all,  if  you  hadn't  been  so  awfully  nice  and 
dear  to  me  this  evening." 

"  So,  that  was  it,  was  it  ?  It  was  the  first  kiss, 
wasn't  it,  my  sweetheart,  that's  when  the  real  love 
came?  D'ye  know,  I'd  never  have  dared  do  a  thing 
like  that  if  the  Herr  Consul  hadn't  told  me  this  morn- 
ing that  you  weren't  his  own  daughter  at  all.  You  see, 
I'm  a  son  of  very  plain  people;  there's  nothing  fine 
about  me;  I've  known  that  for  a  long  time.  To  start 
in  and  make  love  to  the  daughter  of  a  swell  rich 
family, —  that  wouldn't  ever  have  come  into  my  head. 
The  fact  is,  I  don't  like  your  aristocratic  ladies  very 
much  anyway.  When  I  was  giving  you  piano  lessons, 
you  were  nothing  to  me  but  a  stupid  little  goose  without 
any  talent;  only  you  were  so  pretty  and  childlike, — 


312  Florian  Mayr 

you  were  ahead  of  the  rest  on  that  score.  Then,  even 
after  I  had  slapped  you,  when  you  wrote  me  such  a 
sweet  letter,  then,  you  see,  there  was  the  beginning 
of  my  liking  you,  kind  of.  But  then  I  got  out  of  Ber- 
lin and  went  to  Liszt  and — well,  that's  the  way  things 
go.  I  had  a  lot  of  other  things  to  think  about.  But, 
d'ye  know,  day  before  yesterday  when  I  saw  you  again 
so  unexpectedly  at  the  station,  my  heart  began  to  thump 
away  so,  as  if  there  were  some  higher  being  trying  to 
make  me  understand, —  don't  you  know,  as  if  it  wanted 
to  say :  *  Now,  look  there,  she  is  the  nicest,  the  best, 
the  dearest  of  all ;  if  you  only  hold  fast  to  her,  you'll 
find  out  what  real  happiness  means ! '  And  now  for 
two  whole  days  you  haven't  been  out  of  my  head." 

"Really,  as  long  as  that?"  mocked  Thekla  gaily. 

He  joined  in  her  merriment  and  went  on  banter- 
ingly :  "  Now,  if  I  knew  for  sure  that  Thekla 
wouldn't  marry  Pan  Prositlaus  after  all,  why  then  I 
might  think  I  really  had  something  to  get  conceited 
about." 

"  Shame  on  you,  I  think  you're  very  nasty !  Can 
you  honestly  think  such  a  thing  of  me  now  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  in  the  end  you  might  even  marry  me  ? " 
said  Florian  innocently. 

"  Well,  who  else,  I'd  like  to  know  ?  "  she  cried  almost 
hurt.  "  Do  you  mean  to  desert  me  now  ?  I'll  never 
go  back  to  the  Burmesters  anyway  and  if  you  let  me 
go  out  into  the  world  alone,  I  don't  know  what  I  shall 
do, —  so,  you  see,  the  best  thing  we  can  do  is  to  go  and 
get  married  right  away." 

"  Well,  upon  my  word,  you  are  a  clever  little  minx !  " 
cried  Florian,  laughing  heartily.  But  when  she  went 
on  to  spin  out  her  plan  in  detail  and  demanded  with 


An  Escapade  313 

childlike  persistence  a  decision  on  the  spot,  he  began 
to  feel  a  little  worried  and  directed  her  attention  first  of 
all  to  the  fact  that  for  marrying  money  was  necessary. 

"  Oh,  is  that  all  ?  "  cried  Thekla.  "  Why,  papa  and 
mamma  have  lots  of  money." 

"  Yes,  but  —  when  you  run  away  with  a  man  they 
don't  want  anything  to  do  with,  they  won't  give  you  a 
penny,  for,  you  see,  you're  not  their  child  to  begin  with 
and  they  haven't  any  obligations  towards  you.  But 
even  supposing  they  put  a  million  on  the  table  for 
you, —  do  you  think  I'd  take  it  unless  I  was  already 
earning  enough  to  support  myself  independently  ? " 

"  A  million !  Oh,  I  sha'n't  get  anything  like  that 
much !  "  cried  Thekla.  "  Papa  told  me,  I  shall  have 
two  hundred  thousand  marks,  no  more." 

"  No  more  ?  "  Morian  stopped.  They  were  directly 
under  a  street  lamp  and  with  shy  admiration  he  looked 
at  the  little  girl  who  was  to  receive  in  one  lump  two 
hundred  thousand  marks.  He  had  never  seen  such  a. 
thing  close  by  before. 

Thekla  probably  misunderstood  his  exclamation  for  in 
a  tone  of  almost  anxious  apology,  she  replied :  "  Oh, 
later  on  I  shall  be  sure  to  get  a  good  deal  more.  Papa 
hasn't  anyone  in  particular  to  leave  all  his  money  to. 
But  for  the  present  I  think  we  can  get  along  with  that 
pretty  well.  Besides  you  can  give  piano  lessons  and 
I'm  not  a  bit  extravagant;  in  fact  the  cheapest  things 
to  eat  are  the  things  I  like  best." 

Again  Florian  could  not  help  laughing.  "  I  say, 
I'm  frightfully  hungry.  I  haven't  had  anything  to  eat 
since  one  o'clock  this  afternoon.  But  what  shall  we 
do  now?  If  we  go  to  a  restaurant  we're  likely  as  not 
to  run  right  into  the  arms  of  these  fellows  from  Weimar. 


314  Florian  Mayr 

I  think  the  most  sensible  thing  to  do  is  to  go  to  the 
hotel  and  have  supper  served  in  the  room." 

Then  they  inquired  their  way  to  the  "  Black  Bear 
Inn."  The  head  waiter  as  well  as  the  porter  regarded 
the  pair  with  ill-concealed  distrust,  although  Florian 
had  now  buttoned  his  overcoat  up  to  the  throat.  But 
that  tiny  little  satchel  as  the  entire  luggage  of  a  tall 
gentleman  in  a  silk  hat  and  of  a  very  young  lady  in  a 
traveling  gown, —  that  was  altogether  too  suspicious! 
Besides  where  did  the  pair  come  from  that  they  came 
on  foot  ?  Another  thing  still  was  suspicious :  Florian 
wore  no  gloves  and  consequently  the  headwaiter  had 
no  difficulty  in  discovering  that  he  wore  no  wedding 
ring.  He  murmured  some  excuse  and  went  to  fetch  the 
proprietor. 

Of  course  the  headwaiter's  singular  behavior  did  not 
escape  Florian's  notice.  In  the  presence  of  the  proprie- 
tor he  tried  to  assume  as  confident  a  manner  as  pos- 
sible ;  he  asked  if  a  party  from  Weimar  had  arrived 

"  From  Weimar  ?  "  replied  the  host  with  a  searching 
look,  "  yes,  an  elderly  gentleman  with  a  young  wife. 
Let  me  see,  their  name  is  —  I  can  tell  you  in  a  mo- 
ment." 

"  It  isn't  necessary ;  we  have  no  concern  with  the 
old  gentleman  and  his  young  wife,"  said  Florian  in- 
differently. "  Give  us  two  good  rooms  one  flight  up 
if  you've  got  them." 

Whether  it  was  that  the  host  was  a  man  of  fewer 
prejudices  than  the  headwaiter  or  that  he  was  unwilling 
to  let  slip  a  chance  of  making  some  money, —  at  all 
events,  he  bowed  most  respectfully  and  ordered  the 
waiter  to  conduct  the  guests  to  the  rooms,  adjoining  that 
occupied  by  the  couple  from  Weimar. 


An  Escapade  315 

Arrived  in  their  apartment,  the  headwaiter  lighted 
the  candles  and  inquired  if  they  would  come  down  to 
the  dining-room.  Florian  refused  and  said  they  would 
have  supper  served  in  their  room  and  he  ordered  a  lamp 
and  a  bill  of  fare. 

"  Very  good,  sir,"  said  the  headwaiter,  "  the  lady  and 
gentleman  next  door  are  also  served  in  their  rooms." 
And  with  this  the  fellow  took  the  liberty  of  smiling.  • 

Florian  dismissed  him,  feeling  that  this  meaning 
smile  must  be  a  special  peculiarity  of  Thuringian  head- 
waiters.  But  it  made  him  uncomfortable  so  that  when 
his  charming  little  sweetheart  had  laid  aside  hat,  duster, 
and  gloves  and  came  up  to  him  radiant  with  happiness, 
he  could  not  bring  himself  to  the  point  of  folding  her 
in  his  arms  and  kissing  her  soundly,  as  she  evidently 
wished  him  to  do.  He  only  pressed  her  outstretched 
hands  hurriedly  and  then  went  to  the  window  and  gazed 
out  upon  the  Schlossplatz. 

Burghers  sat  chatting  at  their  doors;  young  girls 
were  strolling  about  the  square,  linked  arm  in  arm  in 
twos  and  threes,  and  teasing  one  another  about  the 
young  fellows  they  met;  from  some  quarter  came  the 
joyous  sound  of  student  songs  agreeably  subdued,  and 
in  the  clear  night  sky  the  stars  were  blinking  and  paling 
in  the  light  of  the  rising  moon.  Everything  breathed 
of  peace  and  cosy  contentment  but  Florian's  soul  was 
filled  with  disquiet.  Although  only  twenty-three,  he 
was  a  sober-minded  and  morally  mature  man.  His  con- 
science was  suddenly  awake  to  the  fact  that  he  had  as- 
sumed a  deucedly  serious  moral  responsibility  in  carry- 
ing out  this  otherwise  so  charming  elopement.  His 
brief  apprenticeship  in  Weimar  had  it  is  true,  already 
sufficed  to  cure  him  of  his  old  Philistine  prejudice  that 


316  Florian  Mayr 

these  love  affairs  were  sinful  in  themselves,  and  now,  so 
far  as  he  was  personally  concerned,  he  never  hesitated 
to  accept  in  a  grateful  spirit  the  sweet  boons  that  for- 
tune threw  into  his  lap  but  in  this  case  it  was  perfectly 
clear  to  him  that  the  trusting  surrender  of  this  poor 
tormented  girl  could  only  bring  misfortune  upon  her. 
If  it  should  become  known  that  Thekla  had  gone  off 
with  him  alone  and  stayed  over  night  in  the  hotel,  the 
world  would  need  no  other  proof  of  her  "  fall,"  not 
even  should  he  swear  to  the  contrary  by  the  most  sacred 
oaths.  And  then  in  the  eyes  of  this  same  world  her 
shrewish  foster-mother  would  be  justified  in  every 
cruelty.  And  how  should  he,  the  homeless  musician, 
shield  her  from  this  effectively  for  any  length  of  time  ? 
If  he  insisted  upon  marrying  the  child,  the  mother 
would  undoubtedly  force  her  husband  to  withhold  the  dot 
and  then  they  would  both  be  doomed  to  certain  wretch- 
edness. His  career  as  an  artist  would  be  at  an  end 
and  he  would  have  drawn  this  helpless  creature  into 
a  sphere  of  life  whose  severe  demands  she  was  in  no 
way  fitted  to  meet.  He  was  far  from  being  such  a 
romantic  simpleton  as  to  imagine  that  love  even  in  the 
cheerless  perspective  of  a  matrimonial  eternity  would 
suffice  to  help  them  over  the  awkward  difficulties  of  a 
miserable  reality. 

The  waiter  brought  the  lamp  and  the  bill  of  fare. 
Florian  ordered  the  best  there  was  to  be  had  and  with 
it  a  bottle  of  good  wine.  Since  this  was  to  be  a  part- 
ing feast,  it  should  at  least  be  a  generous  one.  He 
purposely  refrained  from  ordering  champagne  for  that 
had  the  reputation  of  being  a  dangerous  procurer  and 
he  had  solemnly  resolved  not  to  yield  to  temptation  in 
any  form. 


An  Escapade  317 

When  the  waiter  had  gone,  Florian  was  about  to  re- 
sume his  place  at  the  window  but  Thekla  threw  her 
arms  around  his  neck  and  with  a  look  of  touching  anx- 
iety whispered :  "  Don't  you  love  me  any  more  ?  " 

That  is  the  droll  question  which  in  the  beginning  of 
love  springs  to  the  lips  of  every  girl  and  a  man  in  love 
can  answer  it  in  no  other  way  but  by  kisses  and  tender 
reassurances.  Florian  accordingly  followed  the  old 
established  custom.  He  at  once  assumed  an  expression 
of  kindly  affection ;  —  why  should  he  spoil  the  dear 
child's  pleasure?  They  might  be  allowed  to  snatch  a 
few  hours  of  merry  companionship  and  then  they  would 
have  to  say  good-by  for,  ah,  who  knows  how  long  ?  He 
took  her  by  the  arm  and  led  her  to  the  window.  They 
leaned  out  and  chatted  tenderly,  innocently,  until  the 
supper  was  served. 

Both  had  healthy  appetites  and  the  excellent  repast 
did  much  to  dispel  Florian's  melancholy  and  to  loosen 
Thekla's  tongue.  With  a  vivacity  for  which  he  had 
not  given  her  credit,  she  gave  him  a  description  of  her 
life  hitherto,  of  her  education,  and  of  her  few  trifling 
experiences  with  men.  They  were  all  the  usual  in- 
significant incidents  in  the  life  of  a  well  guarded  daugh- 
ter of  good  family.  But  the  way  in  which  Thekla 
spoke  of  them  unconsciously  comprised  a  most  trench- 
ant criticism  of  the  life  led  by  aristocratic  young  ladies 
in  general  and  of  her  foster-parents  in  particular  and 
proved  at  the  same  time  that  this  child  had  already 
formed  some  very  reasonable  notions  concerning  the 
perversities  and  the  ridiculous  and  narrow  views  that 
had  hampered  her  at  every  step.  Florian  took  genuine 
pleasure  in  this  discovery  for  until  now,  if  he  would 
make  an  honest  confession,  he  had  thought  Thekla  a 


318  Florian  Mayr 

little  bit  stupid;  lie  had  regarded  her  as  one  of  those 
agreeable  creatures,  wholly  useless  for  any  of  the  se- 
rious purposes  of  life,  such  as  the  higher  social  classes 
produce  in  dangerous  abundance  as  articles  of  luxury. 

He  listened  to  her  with  real  delight;  only  when  at 
last  in  her  eagerness  she  spoke  a  little  too  loud,  he 
checked  her  with  a  "  please,  piu  piano.  The  people 
next  door  don't  need  to  hear  everything." 

"Oh,  nonsense,"  retorted  Thekla  lightly.  "They 
don't  hear  us ;  they're  talking  too  loud  themselves." 

Florian  put  his  hand  to  his  ear  and  listened  at  the 
door  at  the  left.  Yes,  it  was  true;  the  talking  and 
laughing  there  was  certainly  loud  enough  and  anyone 
listening  at  the  door  could  hear  a  good  deal.  Thekla 
resumed  the  conversation  but  Florian  had  grown  in- 
attentive and  kept  pricking  up  his  ears  in  the  direction 
of  the  adjoining  room.  The  young  woman's  laugh  in 
that  room  disquieted  him;  the  voice  seemed  to  him  so 
familiar  and  the  peculiar  intonation  reminded  him  of  — 

Suddenly  he  sprang  up  in  great  excitement  and  com- 
manding Thekla  to  be  quiet,  put  his  ear  to  the  door. 
Oh,  he  was  not  mistaken.  "  He  is  dear  friend  of  mine, 
very  famous  artist !  "  he  heard  "  the  young  wife  "  say. 
There  was  no  longer  any  doubt.  The  lady's  companion 
spoke  too  softly  for  him  to  recognize  the  voice.  Flo- 
rian stooped  to  peep  through  the  keyhole,  but  the  key 
was  so  turned  that  nothing  could  be  seen. 

"Why,  what's  the  matter?"  asked  the  astonished 
Thekla  in  an  anxious  whisper.  "  You've  turned  quite 
pale ;  what  kind  of  horrid  people  are  they  in  there  ? " 

Florian  had  come  back  to  the  table.  The  hand  with 
which  he  steadied  himself  trembled.  He  avoided 
Thekla's  questioning  look  and  replied  in  much  con- 


An  Escapade  319 

fusion :  "  We  are  lost  if  those  people  see  us  here  to- 
gether!" 

He  paid  no  heed  to  Thekla's  curious  questions  or 
her  proposals.  Now  he  walked  excitedly  on  tiptoe  up 
and  down  the  room,  now  stopped  to  listen  at  the  door, 
now  took  his  place  at  table  again  and  worried  down 
a  few  mouthfuls.  Thekla  of  course  soon  caught  his 
excitement.  She  left  untasted  the  appetizing  bit  of 
bread  and  cheese  which  she  had  just  prepared  and  fol- 
lowed him.  With  her  own  little  handkerchief  she 
dried  the  cold  beads  of  anxiety  from  his  brow  and 
begged  him  in  a  whisper  for  an  explanation  of  his 
strange  behavior.  He  was  scarcely  able  to  speak.  He 
looked  up  at  her  with  an  expression  of  deep  pain  and 
choked  hoarsely:  "  That  is  the  punishment!  " 

"Punishment?  —  what  for?"  whispered  Thekla  a 
little  hurt.  "  What  wrong  have  I  done  ?  Is  it  a  sin 
for  us  to  love  each  other  ? " 

"  Xo,  no,  no !  You  are  innocent  —  I  —  it  concerns 
only  me."  With  that  he  pulled  himself  together  and 
went  over  to  the  door  to  ring  the  bell. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ? "  cried  Thekla  anx- 
iously. 

"  I  must  go,"  replied  Ylorian  in  a  whisper.  "  I'll 
just  pay  and, —  that  is, —  no, —  I'd  better  leave  you 
what  money  you  need.  I  think  I've  enough  to  take  you 
to  Munich.  But  telegraph  first  thing  to-morrow  morn- 
ing to  your  friend  and  start  as  soon  as  you  get  word. 
I  must  get  out  of  here  without  being  seen, —  perhaps 
there's  still  a  train  to  Weimar.  We  mustn't  be  caught 
here, —  not  at  any  price !  " 

"Yes,  but  suppose  Erna  isn't  there,  what  shall  I 
do  then  ? " 


320  Florian  Mayr 

"Well,  then — "  Florian  did  not  know  what  to 
say. 

Thekla  burst  into  tears.  "Oh  dear,  oh  dear! 
!Now  you're  going  to  desert  me,  too!  You  see,  you 
don't  love  me  after  all !  " 

"  It's  just  because  I  do  love  you,  my  sweetheart!  " 

He  was  about  to  go  over  to  her  and  comfort  her 
when  he  heard  the  door  of  the  adjoining  room  open  and 
its  occupants  go  out  into  the  corridor  in  animated  dis- 
cussion. Even  Thekla  listened  in  suspense.  The  foot- 
steps died  away.  Florian  deliberated  what  was  to  be 
done  next  and  Thekla  did  not  venture  to  disturb  his 
meditations.  A  few  minutes  passed  thus  before  he 
could  reach  a  decision. 

Suddenly  there  were  again  sounds  of  life  in  the  cor- 
ridor. Hurried  steps  and  excited  whispers  approached 
from  the  staircase;  at  the  door  of  the  next  room  there 
was  a  brief  consultation, —  then  a  few  quick  steps, — 
and  the  next  minute,  without  the  ceremony  of  knock- 
ing the  door  opened  and  there  entered  —  Mr.  Crookes, 
senior,  followed  by  Fraulein  Ilonka  Badacs !  An  angry 
exclamation  from  Florian,  a  frightened  scream  from 
Thekla,  and  dumb  astonishment  on  the  part  of  the  in- 
truders !  Then  Thekla  did  the  best  thing  possible  un- 
der the  circumstances:  quickly  covering  her  face  with 
her  napkin,  she  ran  into  the  bedroom  adjoining,  which 
was  intended  for  her  use. 

With  a  few  rapid  strides  Florian  went  up  to  Mr. 
Crookes,  shook  his  fist  in  his  face,  and  shouted  at  him 
hoarsely :  "  What  do  you  want  here,  sir  ?  You  just 
get  out  — !  " 

Mr.  Crookes  at  once  assumed  a  boxing  attitude  and 
broke  in  with  extraordinary  fluency :  "  Oh,  Herr 


An  Escapade  321 

Mayr,  I  am  very  glad  to  meet  you. —  Don't  hit  me 
or  I  shall  knock  you  down.  Go  into  the  next  room  with 
this  lady  right  away ;  my  sons  are  coming  up  the  stairs ! 
They  must  not  find  me  with  this  lady, —  do  you  under- 
stand? If  you  don't  understand,  I'll  knock  you 
down!" 

Florian  scarcely  knew  whether  he  understood  or  not ; 
neither  could  he  make  up  his  mind  whether  to  laugh 
at  the  Englishman  who  was  so  supremely  ludicrous  in 
his  indescribable  excitement  or  to  let  it  come  to  fisticuffs, 
but  at  this  juncture  Fraulein  Ilonka  seized  him  roughly 
by  the  arm  and  without  a  word  of  explanation  pulled 
him  through  the  door.  She  dragged  and  shoved  him 
along  the  corridor  and  pushed  him  into  her  room. 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?  What  in  the  world  are  you 
thinking  of  ?  "  cried  Florian  quite  out  of  breath. 

Ilonka  answered  with  a  mocking  laugh :  "  Oh, 
Saint  Florian !  fine  saint !  I  tell  all  in  Weimar,  if 
you  don't  do  as  I  bid.  March!  Sit  down  on  sofa, — 
arm  around  me  that  way, —  champagne  glass  in  your 
hand !  Oho !  No  resistance  or  else  —  that's  the  way. 
Now  let  the  chase  begin." 

It  was  the  highest  time  for  at  that  moment  there 
came  a  knock  at  the  door  and  in  response  to  Ilonka's 
loud  "  come  in "  Bob  and  Dick  Crookes  with  Herr 
Ispirescu  and  another  young  Lisztite  of  Ilonka's  par- 
ticular circle  crossed  the  threshold ;  with  an  exclamation 
of  surprise  that  came  as  from  one  throat  and  with  faces 
a  yard  long  they  remained  standing  at  the  door. 

Florian  disengaged  himself  roughly  from  Ilonka's 
embrace  and  sprang  to  his  feet.  His  surprise  and  ex- 
citement had  the  appearance  of  being  so  entirely  natural 
that  the  four  young  fellows  could  not  help  believing  it 


322  Florian  Mayr 

genuine.  No  one  spoke  a  word.  They  stared  at  one 
another  completely  dumfounded  and  bewildered. 

Suddenly  like  a  ray  of  light  it  came  over  Florian 
that  herein  lay  his  salvation.  He  now  had  witnesses 
that  it  was  with  another  he  had  run  away  to  Jena. 
Thekla  Burmester  was  not  known  to  any  of  these  peo- 
ple. Crookes,  senior,  would  have  to  hold  his  tongue  in 
any  case,  or  else  he  would  be  the  most  thoroughly  dis- 
graced of  the  lot.  The  only  point  then  was  to  induce 
Ilonka  to  keep  the  secret.  In  that  case  this  very  ques- 
tionable escapade  might  still  pass  off  without  evil  re- 
sults. But  that  fate  should  have  ordained  Ilonka  of 
all  women  to  catch  him  here  with  her  successor !  This 
Ilonka  whom  he  had  so  cruelly  offended !  He  was  now 
delivered  into  her  hands,  wholly  defenseless.  If  she 
wanted  revenge,  now  was  her  perfect  chance!  Here 
was  another  case  in  which  punishment  had  followed 
close  upon  the  heels  of  misconduct  and  Morian,  the 
poor  sinner,  began  to  conceive  a  mighty  respect  for  di- 
vine justice.  He  was  glad,  however,  that  for  the  pres- 
ent at  least  the  worst  danger  had  been  warded  off  from 
Thekla's  innocent  head  and  that  thought  helped  him  to 
recover  his  self-possession.  He  went  up  to  the  four 
young  gentlemen  and  addressed  them  in  a  manner  be- 
fitting the  occasion :  "  Well,  gentlemen,  this  is 
really —  What  do  you  want  here?  It  seems  to  me, 
to  say  the  least, —  extraordinary !  " 

The  four  youngsters  were  quite  at  their  wits'  end. 
Each  looked  helplessly  at  the  others;  then  they  stam- 
mered a  few  very  clumsy  excuses  and  much  ashamed 
were  about  to  take  themselves  off,  when  Ilonka  rooted 
them  to  the  spot  again  by  bursting  into  loud  laughter. 

"  Is  too  comical, —  having  awful  fun !     Just  look, 


An  Escapade  323 

dear  friend  Florian,  how  they  stand  there,  handsome 
young  gentlemen!  But  Mr.  Bob  and  Mr.  Dick,  what 
will  father  say  when  he  looks  to-night  in  beds  and  finds 
all  empty?  Merciful  heavens,  that  will  be  big,  big 
disaster  when  you  get  home !  Oh,  poor  young  gentle- 
men!" 

The  Crookes  boys  turned  scarlet  with  anger  under 
the  mockery  of  the  malicious  lady.  They  saw  Herr 
Mayr  smiling,  too,  and  there  was  a  tell-tale  twitching 
in  the  faces  of  their  two  companions.  They  were  con- 
vinced that  someone  had  played  a  practical  joke  on 
them  in  order  to  have  fun  with  them  afterwards  when 
their  strict  "governor"  should  have  inflicted  condign 
punishment  on  them  as  runaways.  Master  Dick  who 
had  more  temperament  than  his  brother  was  the  first 
to  take  heart  and  speak  out  frankly.  He  advanced  a 
few  steps  towards  the  table  on  the  other  side  of  which 
Ilonka  was  sitting,  made  a  quick  bow,  and  said :  "  I 
beg  your  pardon,  Fraulein,  for  running  in  here  this  way. 
These  fellows  told  us  we  should  find  our  father 
here." 

"  What,  you  lost  your  father  ? "  cried  Ilonka,  in- 
describably delighted. 

"  Oh,  no,"  replied  Dick  boldly,  "  but  we  noticed  that 
father  was  in  love  with  you.  These  fellows  told  us 
he  had  run  away  with  you  to-day.  You  told  these  fel- 
lows yourself  you  were  going  to  stop  at  this  hotel !  " 

"  But,  really,  young  gentlemen  I  must  beg  of  you, — " 
interrupted  Ilonka,  playing  the  injured  one. 

Bob  went  up  to  Dick  to  quiet  him  but  Dick  would 
not  listen  to  anything  more.  His  eyes  flashed  and  he 
threatened  the  two  young  Lisztites  with  a  fist  that  prom- 
ised many  things.  "  Oh,  I'll  pound  these  chaps  to  a 


324  Florian  Mayr 

pulp!     Damn  them.     Come  along,  Bob,  let's  do  them 
up!" 

He  rushed  at  the  two  youths  with  a  gesture  so  threat- 
ening that  they  dodged  to  one  side  with  great  celerity 
and  found  it  best  to  seek  protection  with  Florian  and 
his  lady.  For  some  time  all  six  of  them  talked  at  once. 
Fraulein  Badacs  expressed  indignation  that  they  should 
come  to  blows  in  her  presence.  Dick  raged  and  cursed 
in  English,  while  Bob  endeavored  to  calm  him.  Herr 
Ispirescu  tried  to  make  the  case  clear  to  Florian.  The 
other  young  Lisztite  heaped  reproaches  upon  Fraulein 
Badacs  for  lying  to  them.  Finally  Florian  threatened 
to  punch  the  whole  pack  of  them  in  the  nose  if  they 
did  not  behave  at  once.  Herr  Ispirescu  at  last  got 
Florian  into  a  corner  and  thus  eventually  succeeded  in 
explaining  to  him  the  cause  of  this  remarkable  inci- 
dent He  and  his  companion  had,  it  seems,  made 
friends  with  the  young  Crookes  and  had  entered  into  a 
conspiracy  with  Fraulein  Badacs  to  emancipate  these 
two  lively,  prepossessing  lads  from  their  father's  tyr- 
anny. To  this  end  Ilonka  had  proposed  to  play  upon 
the  old  Englishman's  amorous  propensities.  She  had 
little  difficulty  in  getting  Mr.  Crookes  to  make  the 
proposition  himself  of  going  off  for  a  little  pleasure 
trip  and  she  had  arranged  with  her  fellow  conspirators 
that  they  should  follow  her  to  Jena  and  at  an  appointed 
hour  in  the  "Black  Bear  Inn"  surprise  her  in  a 
tete-a-tete  with  this  austere  abstainer.  That  the 
two  sons  should  be  of  the  party  formed,  it  is  true,  no 
part  of  the  original  programme;  the  young  people  had 
carried  that  out  on  their  own  account  because  by  that 
means  they  expected  to  produce  a  particularly  power- 
ful effect. 


An  Escapade  325 

Florian  could  not  help  laughing  outright,  for  the 
thought  of  the  old  hypocrite  caught  in  so  compromising 
a  situation  by  his  two  sons  was,  indeed,  irresistibly 
ludicrous.  When  the  others  heard  Florian  laugh,  the 
confusion  of  excited  voices  was  suddenly  hushed  and  all 
eyes  were  fastened  expectantly  upon  him.  Going  up 
to  the  two  young  Englishmen,  he  slapped  them  fa- 
miliarly on  the  shoulder  and  said :  "  Well,  young 
gentlemen,  the  matter  is  very  simple, —  let's  all  be  glad 
it's  turned  out  as  it  has.  You  haven't  got  to  pound, 
pommel,  or  punch  any  of  us,  for  we're  all  as  innocent 
as  new-born  lambs.  Of  course  I'm  the  biggest  little 
lamb  of  the  lot  for  I  didn't  know  anything  about  it  at 
all.  Xobody  has  lied  to  you,  either,  for  it's  quite  true 
your  father  had  planned  a  little  escapade  of  this  sort. 
But,  you  see, —  well  Fraulein  and  I, —  you  know, 
we're, —  we're  good  friends,  too,  and  when  I  asked  her 
if  she  wouldn't  run  over  to  Jena  with  me  this  evening, 
why,  she  respected  my  prior  claims  and  came  off  with 
me.  Besides  I  can  take  my  oath  that  our  friend, 
Fraulein  Ilonka,  is  very  glad  she  didn't  play  the  old 
gentleman  such  a  mean  trick, —  aren't  you  now  ?  " 

Ilonka  gave  Florian  a  grateful  look  and  with  a  sweet, 
shamefaced  expression  replied :  "  Why,  of  course, — 
was  sorry  already  I  promised  you  young  people  such 
silly  things!  Wasn't  nice  to  play  such  joke  on  Mr. 
Crookes.  The  old  man  is  not  to  blame  to  fall  in  love 
with  me." 

"  Well,  rather  not ! "  cried  Florian  merrily. 
"  There's  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of  in  that,  by  Jove ! 
Just  look  at  her,  this  Fraulein  Ilonka !  " 

By  this  gallant  turn  the  mood  of  gayety  was  restored 
at  one  stroke  and  nothing  remained  to  be  done  but  to 


326  Florian  Mayr 

relieve  the  two  young  Englishmen  of  all  fear  of  their 
father's  wrath.  This  Florian  succeeded  in  doing  by 
simply  promising  to  tell  the  old  gentleman  that  it  was 
he,  Florian,  who  had  led  the  lads  astray  and  induced 
them  to  make  this  little  excursion.  That  settled,  they 
all  made  preparations  to  spend  the  rest  of  the  evening 
as  pleasantly  as  possible  in  some  beer  resort  Florian 
had  wisely  rejected  the  proposition  to  make  use  of  the 
restaurant  of  the  "  Black  Bear  Inn  "  for  their  enter- 
tainment, for  some  careless  remark  of  the  waiter  might 
reveal  the  presence  of  the  other  pair. 

Ilonka  requested  the  young  gentlemen  to  go  on  ahead. 
Then,  locking  the  door  behind  them,  she  turned  quickly 
to  Florian  and,  squeezing  both  his  hands,  cried  with 
animation :  "  Bravo !  dear  friend.  You  did  that  very 
well.  Now  I  will  help  you.  What  young  girl  is  that  ? 
Out  with  it  quick!" 

In  a  few  words  Florian  told  her  the  whole  truth. 

"  Hm,  hm  —  stupid  business !  "  murmured  Ilonka 
thoughtfully.  "  Is  the  girl  real  nice  ?  Will  Saint 
Florian  marry  the  girl  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she  is  nice  all  right  and  marry  her  I  would 
if  I  could." 

"  Hold  on, —  I  know  what  we  do !  "  She  took  Flo- 
rian by  the  arm  and  led  him  along  the  corridor  to  the 
door  of  the  room  in  which  Thekla  had  taken  refuge. 
There  she  bade  him  knock  and  call  her  softly  by  name. 

Thekla  opened  the  door  at  once  and  was  not  a  lit- 
tle astonished  to  see  the  strange  lady  enter  with  Florian. 
Before  he  could  say  a  word,  Ilonka  already  held  Thekla 
in  her  arms  and  had  kissed  her  heartily  on  both  cheeks. 

"  My  dear  Fraulein,"  she  exclaimed  warmly,  "  Good 
Lord,  how  you  have  cried!  Please,  please,  be  quite 


An  Escapade  327 

calm.  My  friend  Mayr  has  told  me  all.  Will  all  come 
out  right,  chere  petite!  Have  two  beds  in  my  room. 
You  sleep  with  me  and  to-morrow  morning  we  all  three 
consider  what  we  do.  I  give  you  my  sacred  word  of 
honor  you  will  not  marry  that  disgusting  creature !  " 

The  poor,  tearstained  Thekla  was  evidently  glad  to 
have  anyone  take  charge  of  her  and  willingly  followed 
the  strange  lady  to  her  room.  There  Ilonka  rang  for 
the  waiter  to  clear  away  the  dinner  things  and  com- 
missioned Florian  to  look  after  the  unfortunate  Mr. 
Crookes. 

He  had  locked  himself  in  in  the  adjoining  room  and 
fearfully  awaited  his  fate.  As  soon  as  Florian  had 
made  himself  known,  he  opened  the  door  a  very  little 
and  cautiously  peeped  through  the  crack.  Kot  until 
he  had  convinced  himself  that  Florian  was  really  alone, 
did  he  allow  him  to  enter. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Crookes,  these  are  fine  games  you're  up 
to !  "  said  Florian,  raising  his  forefinger  admonishingly. 
He  kept  back  the  laughter  with  difficulty  by  biting  his 
lips  when  he  confronted  this  dried  up  old  sinner  who 
stared  at  him  with  a  look  of  abject  misery. 

"  Oh,  dear,  oh,  dear !  "  groaned  Mr.  Crookes,  hold- 
ing his  head  in  both  his  hands.  "  I  heard  my  sons' 
voices.  What  did  my  sons  say?  How  did  they  get 
here?" 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Crookes,  you  were  incautious,"  replied 
Florian  solemnly.  "  Love  blinded  you,  yes,  yes,  yes ! 
Your  sons  saw  it  plainly  and  so  they  plotted  with  their 
friends  to  watch  you.  Yes,  indeed,  if  I  hadn't  acci- 
dentally been  on  hand!  What  do  you  think?  You'd 
have  been  in  a  nice  mess !  " 

Mr.  Crookes  shook  his  head  thoughtfully.     "  Dear 


328  Florian  Mayr 

me,  dear  me,  I  don't  at  all  understand  how  these  boys 
found  out  that  I  went  to  Jena." 

"Yes,  that's  so.  Donnerwetter!  It  is  singular," 
cried  Florian  and  he  thought  the  matter  over  for 
awhile.  Then  he  added  slyly :  "  Someone  must  have 
followed  you  to  the  station,  you  know,  and  listened  and 
found  out  what  place  you  bought  your  tickets  for." 

"  Dear  me,  dear  me !  "  sighed  Mr.  Crookes.  "  I 
never  should  have  thought  that  those  boys  were  so 
damned  clever." 

"  Well,  now  you  see  it  That  sort  of  things  always 
brings  its  own  punishment  sooner  or  later.  Believe  me, 
my  dear  Mr.  Crookes.  Grown-up  sons  should  not  be 
treated  as  if  they  were  little  children.  But  I'll  tell  you 
one  thing:  give  me  your  word  of  honor  as  a  gentleman 
that  in  the  future  you'll  give  Messrs.  Bob  and  Dick  their 
freedom  as  is  right  and  proper, —  and  I'll  help  you  out 
of  this  scrape." 

Mr.  Crookes  thereupon  shook  hands  with  Florian 
and  promised  to  do  as  he  asked.  Florian  told  him  to 
take  the  first  train  back  to  Weimar  in  the  morning. 
When  his  boys  returned  by  a  later  train,  he  was  to  re- 
ceive them  in  a  perfectly  unconcerned  manner  and 
just  tease  them  a  little  for  running  off  that  way. 
Florian  for  his  part  agreed  to  remove  one  way  or  an- 
other the  last  speck  of  suspicion  that  might  still  lurk 
in  the  young  gentlemen's  minds. 

Mr.  Crookes  was  grateful  beyond  measure  and  called 
Florian  his  best  friend. 

Without  in  the  corridor  Ilonka  was  waiting  for 
Florian.  He  reported  to  her  the  happy  outcome  of 
his  diplomatic  mission.  Then  he  wanted  to  go  in  and 


An  Escapade  329 

say  good-by  to  Thekla  but  that  Ilonka  would  not  per- 
mit. 

"  Let  poor  child  alone !  "  she  whispered  to  him.  "  Is 
too  much  excited.  To-morrow  morning  all  three  of  us 
think  out  something.  The  girl  is  so  nice, —  understand 
perfectly  that  you  want  marry  her.  Girls  like  that 
are  just  made  to  be  married!  If  they  can  love  such 
a  bear  as  you, —  well,  is  their  business,  is  not  my  affair. 
But  I  will  help  her.  I  spit  on  the  Herr  Consul's  bald 
head  and  as  for  the  fine  mamma,  I  scratch  her  eyes 
out!" 

They  were  descending  the  stairs,  as  she  said  this, 
side  by  side.  Florian  seized  her  hand  and  pressed  it 
hard ;  with  heartfelt  warmth  he  whispered :  "  You 
dear  incomprehensible  Ilonka,  You  are  a  good  girl 
through  and  through !  " 


CHAPTER  XVI 
A  Sorry  Farewell 

THE  prolonged  nocturnal  symposium  which  followed 
the  eventful  evening  at  the  "  Black  Bear  Inn  "  com- 
pletely removed  the  danger  that  Mr.  Crookes  ran  of 
being  surprised  by  his  sons  in  the  first  morning  train  to 
Weimar;  for  all  the  participators  in  this  hilarious 
"  beer-tour  "  slept  until  nine  o'clock  the  next  morning, 
with  the  single  exception  of  Florian,  who,  in  spite  of 
the  evening's  revels,  made  out  to  rise  at  six  and  take 
the  first  train.  It  had  suddenly  occurred  to  him  as  he 
was  returning  to  the  hotel  the  night  before,  that  he 
could  not  without  a  good  excuse  shirk  his  regular  morn- 
ing hour  with  Liszt  without  involving  himself  in  a  net- 
work of  falsehood.  He  would  never  in  the  world  have 
dared  to  confess  to  the  Master  what  a  stupid  and  dan- 
gerous act  of  folly  he  had  been  on  the  point  of  com- 
mitting,—  to  abduct  a  respectable  girl,  hardly  more 
than  a  child,  from  her  parents  while  they  were  guests 
at  Liszt's  own  house,  and  stay  with  her  over  night  at 
the  best  known  hotel  in  Jena !  !^o,  that  was  altogether 
too  much,  and  the  Master  would  hardly  accept  any 
excuse  for  it,  even  if  he  believed  everything  that 
Florian  could  offer  in  his  own  defense.  He  had  there- 
fore asked  Ilonka  to  make  his  excuses  to  Thekla  and  to 
do  with  the  poor  girl  as  she  thought  best. 

Just  as  on  the  morning  of  his   first  fall,  Florian 
brought  home  with  him  this  time  as  well  a  severe 


A  Sorry  Farewell  331 

moral  "  katzen jammer,"  and  it  was  so  clearly  written 
in  his  face  that  Liszt  attributed  it  without  more  ado  to 
the  headache  he  had  complained  of  the  evening  before, 
and  soon  sent  the  young  man  home  that  he  might  take 
proper  care  of  himself. 

Florian  scourged  his  soul  cruelly  and  chastised  his 
heart  with  scorpions  as  he  lay  half  dressed  on  his  bed 
endeavoring  to  make  up  for  his  lost  sleep.  He  -could 
justify  the  abduction  to  his  conscience;  it  was  so  hon- 
estly meant  and  had  proved  so  harmless.  There  was 
no  manner  of  doubt  that  taking  away  a  loving  and 
beloved  maiden  from  hard-hearted  parents  who  mal- 
treated her  in  an  unjustifiable  manner  belonged  to  the 
inalienable  rights  of  man!  Thekla  loved  and  trusted 
him ;  therefore  he  was  undoubtedly  the  one  called  upon 
to  help  her.  But  was  he  worthy  of  this  trust? 
"  ^o !  "  thundered  his  conscience  with  appalling  dis- 
tinctness in  his  ears.  It  is  true,  his  warm,  tender  heart 
had  absolutely  melted  with  sympathy  yesterday  at  the. 
helplessness  of  the  charming,  lovesick  child,  and  he  had 
confessed  his  own  love  for  her  plainly  enough  by  in- 
numerable kisses.  But  in  sober  reality,  how  was  it  with 
this  love  of  his  for  her  ?  Woeful  —  ah,  woeful  indeed ! 
AYhen  he  had  met  Ilonka,  the  incomprehensively  good 
and  yet  naughty,  the  old  passion  had  come  over  him 
once  more  impetuously  and  seized  upon  his  heart  with 
clinging  talons.  After  all  she  had  been  his  first  love, 
and,  in  spite  of  the  desperate  efforts  he  had  made,  with 
the  aid  of  his  moral  indignation,  to  cast  her  off,  he 
could  not  banish  her  from  his  heart.  He  was  obliged 
to  confess  to  himself  that  he  had  been  very  much  re- 
lieved the  night  before,  when  Ilonka's  intervention  had 
released  him  from  the  painful  responsibility  for  the 


332  Florian  Mayr 

consequences  of  his  rashness.  Florian  was  quite  well 
aware  that  Thekla  was  not  only  far  prettier  than  Ilonka, 
but  united  in  herself  all  the  qualities  necessary  to 
guarantee  to  the  man  she  loved  permanent  happiness. 
She  was  so  young  and  fresh  and  pure,  so  sweet  and 
warm,  devoted  and  natural,  in  spite  of  her  artificial 
"  higher "  education ;  while  Ilonka's  charms  were  al- 
ready on  the  wane  and  needed  the  subtlest  secrets  of  the 
toilette  to  make  them  tell.  Her  virtue  was  not  worth 
a  penny,  and  the  man  who  gave  her  his  heart  was  sure 
to  pay  for  a  moment  of  intoxication  with  an  eternity  of 
doubt.  And  yet  all  the  ardent  longing  of  his  senses  be- 
longed to  this  woman.  He  was  fascinated  by  her  wit, 
her  gypsylike  temperament  and  her  irresponsible  good- 
heartedness,  to  such  a  degree  that  he  would  have  been 
ready  to  run  away  with  her  that  very  day,  although  he 
was  perfectly  aware  that,  perhaps  inside  of  a  week,  she 
might  send  him  home  and  throw  herself  into  the  arms 
of  another,  who  was  in  a  position  to  offer  her  amusements 
of  a  more  exciting  kind,  and,  what  was  more  to  the 
point,  able  to  spend  more  on  her. 

Florian  said  all  this  to  himself  and  once  more  used 
up  conscientiously  the  whole  rich  vocabulary  of  vigorous 
expletives  of  which  he  was  master. 

Meanwhile  in  the  "  Black  Bear  Inn  "  at  Jena,  Thekla 
had  awakened,  but,  as  her  companion  still  slept  soundly 
she  did  not  venture  to  rise  for  fear  of  disturbing  her, 
and  thus  she  found  plenty  of  time  in  which  to  think 
over  her  situation.  The  evening  before  in  her  excite- 
ment and  alarm  she  had  let  them  do  whatever  they 
wanted  with  her,  but  in  the  light  of  the  new  day  the 
assistance  which  this  strange  woman  had  given  her 
seemed  an  act  of  pure  violence.  She  was  still  in  igno- 


A  Sorry  Farewell  333 

ranee  of  the  name  of  the  lady,  who  lay  beside  her  in  bed 
with  open  mouth,  snoring  gently ;  who  was  she  and  in 
what  relation  did  she  stand  to  Florian  ?  If  she  had 
been  all  alone  with  the  knowledge  that  her  Florian  was 
sleeping  in  the  next  room,  she  would  have  awakened 
calm  and  happy  in  the  steadfast  assurance  that  he  would 
decide  correctly  for  her  and  nothing  more  that  was  dis- 
agreeable could  happen  to  her;  but  this  stranger  with 
her  large  mouth  open,  her  faded  features,  her  hard  Tar- 
tar cheek-bones  and  complexion  that  seemed  spotted  in 
the  gray  morning  light,  the  traces  of  powder  and  rouge 
which  she  had  rubbed  off  but  carelessly  when  she  went 
to  bed, —  this  stranger  to  whom  Florian  had  not  even 
found  it  worth  his  while  to  introduce  her,  inspired  her 
with  involuntary  aversion.  How  did  this  woman  dare 
to  come  into  her  life  ?  To  be  sure,  Florian  had  com- 
mitted her  to  her  care  unhesitatingly  and  had  then 
gone  away  with  her  just  as  if  it  were  a  matter  of  course 
for  him  to  obey  her  wishes. 

Thekla's  first  sensation  at  these  thoughts  was  one  of 
jealousy.  It  did  not  occur  to  her  that  Florian's  be- 
havior was  proof  that  he  must  have  reason  to  trust  the 
woman.  She  only  felt  hurt  that  they  treated  her  as  if 
she  were  a  being  without  any  will  of  her  own,  and  she 
felt  ashamed  of  herself  that  she  had  been  weak  enough 
to  shed  tears  in  the  presence  of  this  stranger,  and  to 
allow  herself  to  be  ruled  so  unresistingly.  With  a  sud- 
den resolve  she  threw  back  the  bed-clothes  in  order  to 
get  up  quietly,  dress,  and  look  for  her  protector.  But 
then  it  occurred  to  her  that  she  had  no  idea  where 
Florian  slept.  She  could  not  run  into  the  room  of  the 
old  gentleman,  who  had  appeared  so  suddenly  the  even- 
ing before.  Or  should  she  go  down  and  order  her 


334  Florian  Mayr 

breakfast  alone  in  the  dining-room,  and  wait  until 
Florian  looked  for  her  ?  No,  that  wouldn't  do  either. 
She  drew  the  bed-clothes  over  her  again,  hid  her  face 
in  the  pillows,  and  began  to  cry. 

Ilonka  finally  awoke.  It  was  already  past  nine 
o'clock.  In  the  meantime  Thekla  had  dressed  and  was 
sitting  on  the  sofa  with  her  elbows  on  the  table  and  her 
face  hidden  in  her  hands.  Ilonka  yawned  loudly, 
rubbed  her  eyes  and  called  out  good  humoredly,  "Ah 
bon  jour,  mad'moiselle!  Mais  vous  vous  etes  levee  de 
bonne  heure.  Comment  ga  va-t-il?  Bien  dormi  — 
hem?" 

Thekla  uncovered  her  tearful  little  face  and  shrugged 
her  shoulders  without  a  word. 

"  Mais,  ma  chere  enfant,  pourquoi  si  triste  ?  II  n'y  a 
pas  de  quoi — tout  va  bien!  "  And  with  one  jump  she 
was  out  of  bed,  ran  over  to  Thekla  in  her  pink  silk 
nightgown,  sat  down  beside  her  on  the  sofa  and  gave 
her  a  resounding  kiss  on  either  cheek. 

Thekla  disengaged  herself  in  a  frightened  way 
and  said  in  childish  tones,  "  Mayn't  I  go  to  Herr  Mayr 
now?" 

Ilonka  was  highly  amused  and  laughed  aloud.  She 
embraced  Thekla  again  with  ardor  and  exclaimed, 
"  Cher  petit  ange, —  you  are  charming,  you  dear  little 
thing !  Oh,  this  Herr  Mayr,  how  he  is  to  envy !  How 
late  is  it?  —  nine  o'clock?  —  Oh,  then  Herr  Mayr  is 
in  Weimar  a  long  time  and  works  with  the  Master." 

"Herr  Mayr  is  —  is  —  not  here?"  The  words 
came  out  spasmodic  and  trembling,  and  poor  Thekla 
turned  quite  pale. 

"  But,   dear  young  lady,"   said   Ilonka   soothingly, 


A  Sorry  Farewell  335 

"  Why  we  need  Herr  Mayr  ?  We  can  straighten  your 
affair  much  better  alone.  The  men  always  do  such 
stupid  things  in  such  matters."  And  then  she  told  her 
that  she  had  arranged  last  night  with  Florian  that  she 
was  to  take  her  to  Weimar  and  keep  her  in  her  rooms 
until  they  had  extracted  a  promise  from  her  foster-par- 
ents that  the  engagement  should  be  broken. 

But  Thekla  burst  into  tears  again  and  stubbornly  de- 
clared that  she  would  not  return  to  Weimar  nor  go  back 
to  her  parents  under  any  circumstances. 

All  Ilonka's  persuasiveness  was  of  no  avail.  Thekla 
obstinately  insisted  upon  carrying  out  her  original  plan 
of  joining  her  Munich  friend. 

There  was,  therefore,  absolutely  nothing  for  Ilonka 
to  do  but  hold  her  peace  for  the  present  and  think  of 
her  toilette.  She  already  stood  at  the  washstand,  when 
Thekla  suddenly  approached  her  and  called  out  in  a 
tone  that  was  actually  defiant,  "  Why,  I  don't  even 
know  who  you  are !  " 

Thereupon  Ilonka  took  hold  of  her  long  silk  night- 
gown affectedly  with  her  finger  tips,  dropped  a  dancing- 
school  curtsey  and  said,  "  If  you  will  please,  gracious 
Fraulein,  my  name  is  Badacs  Ilonka,  pianist  Hun- 
garian, and  Herr  Mayr  is  an  old,  very  dear  friend  of 
me.  You  can  trust  me  very  sure.  But  now  you  go 
down,  you  have  nothing  in  stomach  and  you  are  nerv- 
ous. You  take  coffee  en  attendant,  and  I  come  right 
away." 

Thekla  followed  this  good  advice,  and  after  she  had 
taken  a  little  breakfast  really  felt  better  and  more  hope- 
ful. She  wrote  out  a  telegram  to  her  friend  Erna, 
but  as  she  had  never  in  her  life  written  a  telegram  her- 


336  Florian  Mayr 

self  she  was  afraid  to  send  it  off,  and,  therefore,  waited 
until  Ilonka  came  down  in  order  to  submit  it  for  her 
approval. 

After  a  little  pruning  the  dispatch  was  sent,  as  Ilonka 
had  discovered  that  Thekla  had  her  own  stubborn  little 
head  and  was  likely  to  do  the  rashest  things  unless  one 
was  very  careful  with  her.  It  was  only  in  the  after- 
noon that  the  answer  from  Munich  arrived :  "  Ad- 
dressee out  of  town,  whereabouts  unknown." 

Thekla's  disappointment  was  keen,  and  there  re- 
mained nothing  for  her  to  do,  helpless  as  she  now  found 
herself,  but  to  place  herself  unreservedly  in  the  hands 
of  Fraulein  Badacs.  Moreover  the  few  hours  that  they 
had  been  obliged  to  spend  together  had  pretty  well  suf- 
ficed to  overcome  Thekla's  original  aversion  to  Flo- 
rian's  obliging  friend.  Ilonka's  confident  manner  had 
not  failed  to  have  its  effect  on  Thekla,  and,  although 
the  latter  could  not  quite  get  rid  of  her  jealous  sus- 
picions, she  nevertheless  could  not  help  finding  the 
warm-hearted  and  extremely  amusing  Hungarian  very 
agreeable. 

The  two  young  ladies  arrived  about  three  in  the  after- 
noon without  further  mishap  in  Weimar,  where  Ilonka 
accompanied  her  protegee  in  one  of  the  celebrated  ca- 
nary-yellow public  carriages  (the  capital  could  boast 
as  many  as  four  of  these  vehicles)  to  her  own  home. 
Immediately  afterwards  she  betook  herself  to  the 
"  Kussischer  Hof." 

The  porter's  face  took  on  a  doubtful  expression  as 
Fraulein  Badacs,  whom  he  knew  well,  asked  to  see  Con- 
sul Bunnester.  The  Bunnesters  had  received  alarm- 
ing news  and  would  hardly  care  to  receive  visitors. 

"  Oh,  just  say  I  have  news  from  Fraulein  daugh- 


A  Sorry  Farewell  337 

ter  —  they  will  receive  me  already !  "  replied  Ilonka 
with  a  knowing  smile. 

"  Oh,  that's  another  matter!  "  ejaculated  the  porter, 
his  curiosity  aroused.  Then  he  sent  a  waiter  up  with 
the  message  and  Fraulein  Badacs's  card.  The  man 
fairly  flew  upstairs.  It  was  evident  that  the  whole  hotel 
had  been  thrown  into  a  state  of  agitation  by  Thekla's 
flight.  And  the  porter,  of  his  own  accord,  then  in- 
formed Ilonka  that  Fraulein  Burmester  had  gone  away 
the  night  before  with  a  gentleman  in  evening-dress  and 
silk  hat  and  had  not  yet  returned,  on  which  account  her 
parents  and  fiance  had  naturally  been  thrown  into  the 
greatest  anxiety.  Telegrams  had  been  sent  and  received 
and  the  police  probably  already  put  in  possession  of  the 
facts. 

"  What  you  say  ?  "  cried  Ilonka,  feigning  high  indig- 
nation. "  What  you  talk  about !  She  just  went  to  see 
lady  friend  and  they  made  little  trip.  I  cannot  under- 
stand why  letter  is  not  arrive.  Fraulein  has  written 
right  off!" 

With  that  she  ran  upstairs  without  waiting  to  be  de- 
tained longer  by  curious  questions.  The  waiter  met 
her  with  the  announcement  that  the  Consul  and  his  wife 
would  be  very  glad  to  receive  her,  and  upstairs  in  the 
corridor  the  Burmesters  and  Prczewalski  were  already 
waiting  impatiently  to  conduct  her  to  their  drawing- 
room. 

As  soon  as  Ilonka  had  been  bowed  into  the  room 
Frau  Burmester  bolted  the  door  on  the  inside  and  then 
rustled  up  to  her  guest  excitedly. 

"  You  bring  us  news  of  our  daughter,  my  dear  Frau- 
lein?" 

"  Yes,  madam,  I  do,"  replied  Ilonka.     Then  she  fixed 


338  Florian  Mayr 

her  eyes  on  the  handsome  Antonine,  examined  him 
closely  and  finally  asked,  pointing  at  him  unceremoni- 
ously with  her  finger,  "  Beg  pardon,  is  that  the  fiance  ? 
I  think  I  know  him  according  to  description  on  the 


"  Khn,  khn !  "  snorted  Prczewalski,  quickly  raising 
his  handkerchief  to  the  damaged  organ.  "  I  cannot  see 
my  nose  has  something  to  do  with  the  matter !  " 

"  Oh,  yes  it  has,  my  dear  sir !  "  laughed  Ilonka  good- 
humoredly.  "  Your  whole  worthy  person  has  whole  lot 
to  do  with  it.  For  on  your  account  only  is  Fraulein 
gone  off.  I  understand  it  now  very  easy,  too !  " 

Antonine  paused  in  the  midst  of  his  embarrassed 
nose-hlowing,  got  red  as  a  turkey  and  snarled  angrily, 
"  Oh, —  khn  —  what  you  mean  by  that  ?  If  you  want 
insult  me  —  khn,  khn  —  I  will  demand  — !  " 

"  Oh,  don't  bother  us  with  your  sensitiveness  now !  " 
interrupted  Frau  Burmester  sharply,  in  feverish  curi- 
osity to  ascertain  what  had  become  of  her  poor,  mis- 
guided child,  as  she  expressed  it. 

At  the  same  time  the  consul  offered  Ilonka  a  chair 
and  whispered,  "  Please  do  not  keep  us  longer  in  sus- 
pense —  pay  no  attention  to  that  person !  " 

All  four  sat  down  and  then  Ilonka  began  to  tell  her 
story  quite  cheerily.  "  Well,  you  see,  the  matter,  it  is 
very  simple:  you  wanted  force  your  daughter  marry 
man  who  she  did  not  like.  Poor  girl  could  not  stand 
it  any  longer  and  is  run  away  —  I  find  very  sensi- 
ble!" 

Frau  Burmester :  "  My  dear  young  lady,  you  for- 
get what  a  daughter  owes  her  parents,  and  — " 

Prczewalski :  "  Yes  indeed  —  khn  —  you  forget 
anyhow  — " 


A  Sorry  Farewell  339 

Frau  Burmester :  "I  really  wish  you  would  keep 
quiet!" 

The  consul :  "  I  heg  of  you,  tell  us  how  and  where 
you  met  our  daughter." 

This  slight  interruption  over,  Ilonka  proceeded  with 
her  narrative,  addressing  herself  to  the  consul.  "  We 
met  quite  alone  in  ladies'  compartment  second  class. 
Poor  girl  sat  in  corner  and  cried.  I  was  sorry  —  just 
asked  her  why  she  cried.  Eh  lien,  we  made  acquaint- 
ance —  told  me  everything." 

Frau  Burmester :  "  But,  good  heavens,  where  is 
she  ?  We  telegraphed  everywhere ;  and  she  had  no 
money  either !  " 

Ilonka  merely  raised  her  hand  slightly  as  a  protest 
against  interruption  and  proceeded. 

"  So  I  said,  dear  child,  is  all  right  not  to  stand 
that  —  only  donkeys  stand  everything  —  but  you  too 
much  not  enough  experienced  and  haven't  any  money. 
What  you  want  in  the  world  alone,  I  said.  I  go  to 
your  parents  and  make  proposal,  I  said.  So  now  I 
make  proposal:  you  announce  engagement  is  all  over 
and  smashed  and  promise  in  writing  you  not  force  Frau- 
lein  daughter  marry  any  more.  Then  Fraulein  daugh- 
ter come  right  back  to  you  to-day." 

"  Indeed !  And  if  we  refuse  to  do  this  ?  "  exclaimed 
Frau  Burmester  majestically.  And  Prczewalski  sec- 
onded her :  "  Exactly,  khn  —  if  we  refuse,  eh  ?  " 

"  You  just  keep  still,  Prczewalski,  will  you  ? " 
screamed  Frau  Burmester,  bringing  her  hand  down  on 
the  table.  "You're  to  blame  for  the  whole  thing! 
You  listen  at  the  door  and  hear  strange  voices  and  hear 
Thekla  go  out  and  do  nothing,  absolutely  nothing  at  all ! 
You  stay  here  and  order  a  luxurious  dinner  and  the 


340  Florian  Mayr 

most  expensive  wine,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  people 
told  you  Thekla  had  gone  away  with  a  gentleman,  with 
a  gentleman  whom  you  had  good  reason  to  know !  " 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,  mother !  "  stammered  the 
miserable  Antonine;  "  I  could  not  go  out  in  the  street 

—  khn  —  in  my  condition!     Oh,  just  wait,  I  thought 

—  I  will--" 

"  Oh,  you  thought  —  you  will !  "  mocked  Frau  Bur- 
mester.  "  What  will  you  do  ?  You  were  simply  fright- 
ened to  death,  that's  all !  " 

Before  the  startled  Prczewalski  could  get  out  a  word 
in  his  own  defense  the  consul  suddenly  sprang  from 
his  chair,  seized  it  by  the  back  with  both  hands -and 
cried  in  a  voice  trembling  with  excitement,  "  Damme, 
you're  a  —  you  are  —  if  you  had  any  honor  about  you, 
you  would  know  what  your  duty  was  here !  You  ought 
to  have  withdrawn  from  this  engagement  long  ago! 
My  daughter  can't  abide  you,  and  I  —  nor  I  either  — 
I  despise  you  —  I  —  you  may  go  to  the  devil !  I  don't 
want  to  see  you  any  more !  Get  out  of  here,  do  you  un- 
derstand me  ? " 

"Willy!"  cried  Frau  Burmester  petrified  with 
amazement.  She  had  never  seen  her  husband  like  this 
before. 

The  handsome  Antonine  had  turned  as  white  as  the 
handkerchief  with  which  he  still  continued  to  fumble 
about  m's  swollen  nose.  He  gasped  miserably  for 
breath  like  a  fish  out  of  water,  stared  about  wildly  and 
staggered  towards  the  door.  On  the  threshold  he  turned 
round  once  more,  shook  his  clenched  fist  at  Fraulein 
Badacs  and  stammered  out  with  difficulty,  "  Oh,  I  know 
who  I  have  to  thank  for  this  —  I  do  not  believe  one 


A  Sorry  FareweU  341 

word!  I  know  this  Fraulein —  she  is  also  such  a  — 
such  a  Lisztite !  She  is  in  a  plot  with  this  Mayr !  " 

"What's  that?"  screamed  Ilonka,  taking  a  few 
rapid  steps  towards  him.  "  What  you  dare  to  say  ? 
You  get  out  or  —  I  have  very  elastic  wrist  I  " 

Frau  Burmester  stepped  quickly  between  the  two  and 
spread  out  her  arms  protectingly  before  her  repudiated 
son-in-law. 

"  Go,  Herr  Prczewalski !  "  she  said  persuasively.  "  I 
regret  extremely  that  my  husband  was  so  violent,  but 
you  will  understand  that,  under  the  present  circum- 
stances, you  cannot  insist  upon  an  alliance  with  us. 
It  was  not  to  be.  Go  in  the  Lord,  dear  Herr  Prcze- 
walski!" 

Antonine  held  the  door-knob  in  his  hand  and  hesi- 
tated a  moment  longer.  "  Oh,  yes,"  he  panted,  "  I 
will  go !  But  I  will  revenge  myself  —  khn !  I  will 
abandon  this  land  where  violence  triumphs  over  the 
soul  —  I  will  say  shame  and  shake  the  dust  from  my 
shoes!  Good-by,  madam,  I  leave  at  once.  To  you, 
Herr  Consul,  I  have  nothing  to  say  more  —  khn,  khn  — 
you  will  be  so  kind  to  pay  my  little  bill !  "  So  saying 
he  crossed  the  threshold  and  slammed  the  door  behind 
him. 

"  God  be  praised  and  thanked !  "  cried  the  consul 
with  the  deepest  satisfaction,  as  he  let  himself  fall  back 
into  his  chair  with  a  sigh  of  relief. 

Ilonka  went  over  to  him,  gave  him  her  right  hand 
and  said  delightedly,  "  Oh,  Herr  Consul,  you  have  made 
me  such  joy  —  I  thank  you  in  Fraulein  Thekla's  name ! 
Gracious  lady  will  also  promise  me  to  ask  Fraulein  in 
future  when  it  is  to  marry  ?  " 


342  Florian  Mayr 

"  You  see  that  we  are  endeavoring  to  comply  with 
our  daughter's  wishes,"  replied  Frau  Burmester  eva- 
sively. 

Ilonka  thought  it  best,  all  things  considered,  not  to 
insist  upon  a  written  promise.  The  consul's  behavior 
had  made  such  an  impression  on  her  that  she  concluded 
Thekla's  freedom  of  choice  was  guaranteed  for  the 
future,  and  she  therefore  took  her  leave  promising  to 
bring  the  little  runaway  back  to  her  parents  that  very 
day. 

Frau  Burmester  accompanied  her  courteously  to  the 
door  and  expressed  her  thanks  for  bringing  about  the 
reconciliation  in  a  few  formal  phrases.  At  the  very 
last  she  inquired  whether  Ilonka,  since  she  had  been 
living  in  Weimar  for  some  time,  was  not  acquainted 
with  a  certain  Herr  Mayr,  a  favorite  pupil  of 
Liszt. 

"  But  of  course,  gracious  lady !  "  replied  Ilonka  with- 
out hesitation.  "  He  is  very  celebrated  artist  and  dear 
friend  of  me !  " 

"  Indeed !  The  hotel  people  said  that  my  daughter 
went  away  in  the  company  of  a  gentleman,  who,  ac- 
cording to  the  description,  can  only  be  Herr  Mayr ;  and 
about  the  same  time  he  disappeared  from  the  soiree  at 
Liszt's.  Did  my  daughter  say  anything  to  you  about 
that  ? " 

"  Oh,  not  a  word,  gracious  lady,"  prevaricated  Ilonka 
with  a  look  of  the  frankest  innocence.  "  Shall  I  ask 
Herr  Mayr  when  T  shall  see  him  ?  Or  perhaps  he  is 
in  love  with  ITraulein  Thekla  and  wanted  to  run  away 
with  her !  Well,  well,  this  dear  old  Mayr  —  I  never 
would  think  that  of  him !  I  shall  send  him  to  you  so 
he  can  explain  himself." 


A  Sorry  Farewell  343 

"  !No,  no,  please  don't  I  "  exclaimed  Fran  Burmester 
quickly.  "  We  shall  leave  town  as  soon  as  we  have 
found  Thekla.  I  hope  she  is  here  in  the  city  ?  " 

"Of  course!  We  have  slept  together  last  night  in 
Jena,  and  now  she  is  here  at  my  house.  Oh,  gracious 
lady,  you  may  believe  me,  that  you  would  never  have 
seen  her  once  more  again  if  you  had  not  thrown  out  that 
handsome  gentleman  right  before  my  very  eyes !  Well 
now,  we  will  be  happy  —  in  little  half  hour  you  can  em- 
brace Fraulein  Thekla  again !  " 

The  little  consul  went  over  past  his  wife  to  Ilonka  and 
accompanied  her  out  of  the  room  in  the  most  respectful 
manner,  as  if  she  were  a  great  lady,  and  even  down  the 
stairs,  taking  leave  of  her  with  cordial  thanks. 

When  Ilonka  got  home  she  found  her  protegee  in 
good  company.  Florian  Mayr  had  called  several  times 
in  the  course  of  the  day,  but,  upon  hearing  in  the  after- 
noon that  Fraulein  Badacs  had  returned  accompanied 
by  another  young  lady  but  had  gone  out  again  im- 
mediately afterwards,  he  had  concluded  after  some  hesi- 
tation to  wait.  However  attractive  a  tete-a-tete  with 
the  loving  and  devoted  girl  might  be,  Florian,  neverthe- 
less, after  the  severe  self-examination  to  which  he  had 
just  subjected  himself,  dreaded  the  possible  consequences 
of  such  a  confidential  interview.  If  he  should  be 
weak  again  and  allow  himself  to  make  protestations 
of  affection  which  might  perhaps  seem  like  lies  to  him 
later,  but  upon  which  Thekla  would  base  all  her  hopes ! 
He  might  even  have  slunk  away  again  like  a  coward  if 
Thekla  had  not  recognized  his  voice  and  made  him 
come  in. 

As  Ilonka  entered  she  found  Thekla  sitting  in  the 
corner  of  the  sofa  with  her  face  hidden  in  her  hands, 


344  Florian  Mayr 

and  Florian  standing  with  his  back  to  her  at  the  win- 
dow. 

"  Haha !  "  she  cried  merrily,  "  have  I  caught  you, 
you  turtle-doves !  You  jump  so  far  away  from  one 
another  for  fright!  Oh,  what  —  you  need  not  mind 
me!  But  what  is  the  matter?  The  Fraulein  has 
cried?  And  the  young  man  makes  a  face!  Oho  — 
you  quarrel  already  ?  Or  is  it  only  parting  pains  ?  " 

"  Oh,  pshaw !  "  exclaimed  Thekla  bluntly,  rising  and 
dashing  the  tears  out  of  her  eyes.  And  Florian  smiled 
with  difficulty  and  murmured  something  undistinguish- 
able  about  a  slight  misunderstanding. 

Ilonka  had  tact  enough  not  to  ask  any  more  ques- 
tions. She  gave  a  very  graphic  account  of  her  visit 
to  the  Burmesters  and  of  the  surprisingly  vigorous  man- 
ner in  which  the  little  consul  had  given  his  son-in-law 
his  definite  walking-ticket.  Thekla  was  so  astonished 
at  this  unexpected  change  in  her  destiny  that  she  burst 
into  fresh  tears  and  wanted  to  return  at  once  to  her 
"  dear,  good,  only  papa."  They  then  agreed  as  to 
what  answers  Thekla  should  make  to  her  parents'  ques- 
tions concerning  the  role  which  Herr  Mayr  had  played 
in  her  flight,  so  that  her  narrative  should  not  be  at 
variance  with  that  of  Ilonka.  Then  Thekla  got  ready 
to  go  out.  It  did  not  escape  Ilonka  that  Florian  still 
had  something  on  his  mind,  and  she  therefore  made  an 
excuse  to  retire  to  her  bed-room. 

As  soon  as  they  were  alone  Florian  went  to  Thekla 
and  whispered, 

"  Thekla,  darling,  we  can't  part  like  this !  Come, 
give  me  your  hand  and  say  you're  not  angry  with  me ! 
I  tell  you,  if  I  were  independent  and  had  a  position 
that  would  halfway  justify  my  marrying,  then  it  would 


A  Sorry  Farewell  345 

be  quite  another  thing, —  then  I  wouldn't  care  a  hang 
what  people,  or  even  your  foster-parents,  said.  If  we 
two  only  once  came  to  the  conclusion  that  we  loved  each 
other,  then  I  wouldn't  ask  — " 

"  Exactly,  that's  just  the  conclusion  you  haven't  come 
to !  "  interrupted  Thekla,  with  difficulty  keeping  back 
the  tears.  "  You  mustn't  think  I'm  as  stupid  as  that, 
Herr  Mayr !  You  simply  don't  love  me  or  you  wouldn't 
talk  so  much  about  your  commonsense  and  your  good 
intentions.  You  only  said  all  that  yesterday  just  be- 
cause I  was  frightened  and  threw  myself  right  into 
your  arms.  But  I  know  why  you're  sorry  about  it  to- 
day !  No,  no,  you  needn't  give  yourself  any  trouble  — 
you  can't  talk  me  out  of  that !  " 

"  Thekla !  " 

"  No,  no  —  I  know  what  I  know !  It's  quite  right, 
too,  that  everything  has  turned  out  so !  My  darling, 
good,  only  papa  will  see  that  nothing  bad  happens  to 
me  any  more!  Please  forget  how  I  behaved  yester- 
day !  I'd  much  rather  take  piano  lessons  again  and  all 
that  than  be  a  burden  to  somebody  who  doesn't  care  for 
me!" 

"  Thekla,  that's  not  true !  " 

"  Yes,  it  is !  —  Well,  good-by,  Herr  Mayr !  Thank 
you  for  your  assistance  yesterday !  " 

Deeply  moved  he  grasped  the  little  hand  that  she  held 
out  to  him  and  pressed  a  kiss  on  the  light-brown  glove. 
He  tried  to  draw  her  to  him  and  look  into  her  eyes. 
"  Thekla,  won't  you  give  me  even  one  last  kiss  ? "  he 
whispered  sorrowfully. 

"  Why,  Herr  Mayr,  what  do  you  think  I  am  ? "  she 
exclaimed  in  a  low  voice,  as  she  disengaged  herself 
gently  but  firmly  from  his  clasp.  Then  she  went  to 


346  Florian  Mayr 

the  door  quickly  and  threw  it  open  with  as  much  noise 
as  possible,  as  a  signal  to  Ilonka,  who  forthwith  emerged 
from  her  bed-room  and  went  out  with  Thekla  without 
taking  any  further  notice  of  Florian. — 

In  about  half  an  hour  Ilonka  returned  and  was  some- 
what surprised  to  find  Master  Florian  still  in  her 
rooms.  He  had  smoked  up  a  whole  bunch  of  her  ciga- 
rettes and  was  sitting  on  the  sofa  enveloped  in  thick 
clouds. 

"  Well  ?  "  inquired  Florian  with  a  deep  sigh. 

"Well?"  mocked  Ilonka,  "There  you  are  still! 
What  you  make  for  an  expression!  And  Thekla  too! 
Said  good-by  so  cold  —  little  more  and  she  might  hare 
give  me  a  tip !  I  cannot  understand  what  can  it  mean." 

"  Lord  above,  she's  jealous !  "  exclaimed  Florian  ir- 
ritably. "  That  we  two  have  been  mixed  up  together 
somehow  —  she  got  on  to  that  right  away  with  the  cele- 
brated instinct  that  you  women  folks  have  for  such 
things!" 

"  Oh,  go  away ! "  cried  Ilonka  really  astonished* 
"  Jealous  —  of  me !  Mi  a  menynyJco!  Haha !  Splen- 
did joke  —  I  am  so  sorry  I  tore  up  your  last  love-let- 
ter!" 

"  Oh,  come  now,  Ilonka,  you  know  very  well  — " 

"What?" 

"Well,  that  Thekla  isn't  altogether  wrong,"  hesi- 
tated Florian  somewhat  embarrassed.  Ilonka  ad- 
vanced to  the  table  in  front  of  the  sofa,  fanned  away 
the  tobacco-smoke,  and  looked  mockingly  into  Florian's 
face. 

"  What  you  mean,  Saint  Florian  ?  You  got  an  at- 
tack of  sentimentality,  or  you  already  looking  for  a 
substitute  for  the  time  you  cannot  have  Thekla  ? " 


A  Sorry  Farewell  347 

"  Oh,  what  are  you  talking  about  ? "  cried  Florian 
in  a  huff.  "  You  needn't  impute  any  such  mean  mo- 
tives as  that  to  me.  The  matter  lies  just  this  way,  that 
I  —  confound  it.  It  isn't  everyone  that  can  change 
sweethearts  so  easily  and  forget  certain  things !  " 

Ilonka  shrugged  her  shoulders,  laughed,  and  threw 
herself  into  the  nearest  chair.  She  stretched  out  her 
legs,  crossed  her  feet  and  began  to  whistle.  Finally 
she  remarked  lightly,  "  Dear  friend,  you  are  not  re- 
spectable! About  certain  things  one  doesn't  talk." 
And,  as  he  found  no  reply  to  this,  she  continued  after 
a  short  pause,  "  I  want  know  nothing  about  your  love. 
I  am  good  for  friendship  and  be  jolly  —  everything 
else  is  great  bore.  Who  says  I  keep  him  from  marry 
any  nice  girl  that  he  likes  —  he  tells  lie  and  insult 
me!" 

"  But  I  can't  make  the  child  believe  that  I  love  no- 
body but  her  and  never  cared  for  anybody  else,  and 
that  I  couldn't  wait  to  get  married  —  that  would  be  a 
pack  of  lies  indeed !  " 

"  Good  Lord,  you  did  not  tell  her  —  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  couldn't  exactly  deny  it  outright." 

Ilonka  threw  her  head  back  and  clasped  her  hands. 
"Holy  Florian,  what  you  are  for  a  donkey  —  please 
not  be  angry!  You  understand  not  one  little  bit 
about  love,  not  for  one  penny !  If  you  go  tell  all  girls 
in  love  such  truths,  you'll  have  big  lot  of  success !  " 

Florian  gazed  at  her  with  an  expression  of  none  too 
luminous  comprehension  and  growled,  "  I  don't  want 
to  tell  lies!" 

She  turned  up  her  nose  contemptuously.  "  Indeed ! 
If  you  won't  tell  lies,  you  never  make  your  wife 
happy, —  all  wives  want  be  swindled,  and  a  man  never 


348  Florian  Mayr 

ought  get  married  before  lie  learn  tell  fine  love-lies! 
You,  my  dear  Florian,  you  still  stupid  just  like  little 
puppy, —  please  not  get  angry  —  you  are  great  lover 
of  frankness.  If  I  wanted  be  polite  I  say,  you  are 
naive.  But  you  may  believe  me,  nobody  but  old 
women  have  taste  for  naive  men !  So !  Now  you  just 
march  out  here  and  try  digest  this  wisdom !  " 

And  Florian  departed  thence  in  a  most  discontented 
frame  of  mind. 

But  this  was  to  be  only  the  commencement  of  his 
discontent,  only  a  kind  of  introductory  scherzo.  Black 
thunder-clouds  lowered  over  Florian's  head.  To  be 
sure  the  Burmesters  had  left  town  with  Thekla  that 
very  day,  and  he  therefore  had  no  hostilities  to  ex- 
pect from  them.  On  the  other  hand  Prczewalski  had 
lingered  forty-eight  hours  in  Weimar  and  had  made 
the  very  best  use  of  this  time  to  deal  his  deadly  enemy 
an  effectual  blow.  Chance  had  favored  him  in  its 
execution  by  guiding  him  to  a  restaurant  where  he 
stumbled  upon  a  familiar  acquaintance  from  Berlin, 
who  proved  to  be  none  other  than  the  young  Lisztite 
who  had  made  the  trip  to  Jena  in  the  company  of 
Ispirescu  and  the  Crookes.  Prczewalski  had  intention- 
ally turned  the  conversation  upon  Florian  Mayr,  and 
as  his  friend  was  one  of  the  conspirators  who  had 
sworn  to  avenge  the  humiliation  of  Miss  Robertson  and 
Fraulein  Schonflies,  it  was  naturally  not  long  before, 
he  came  out  with  everything  he  knew,  or  thought  he 
knew,  of  Florian's  arrogance,  tyranny,  and  violence. 
And  finally  he  announced  to  the  eagerly  hearkening 
Antonine  with  particularly  malicious  joy  that  he  had 
it  in  his  power  to  unmask  this  hypocrite.  It  was  not 
difficult  to  persuade  him  to  tell  the  story  of  the  Jena 


A  Sorry  Farewell  349 

adventure  with  all  its  details.  He  would  never  for  a 
moment  believe,  he  said,  that  Florian  had  gone  to  Jena 
with  Fraulein  Badacs,  because,  just  as  the  train  was 
on  the  point  of  starting,  he  had  opened  the  door  of  a 
first-class  apartment  by  mistake  and  seen  inside  a  man 
whom  he  had  at  once  recognized  by  his  long,  thin  brown 
hair  as  Florian  Mayr,  and  a  young  lady  in  a  felt  hat 
and  a  black  veil  who  couldn't  possibly  have  been 
Fraulein  Badacs.  And  at  the  station  in  Jena  his  com- 
panions were  sure  they  had  recognized  Florian  Mayr's 
figure  in  the  darkness,  as  he  made  off  with  a  young 
lady  on  his  arm.  At  the  hotel  he  found  out  from  the 
waiter  that  tu*o  couples  had  arrived  at  the  "  Black 
Bear  Inn,"  and  that  one  of  them  was  a  gentleman 
in  evening-dress  with  a  very  young  lady  in  a  felt  hat 
and  a  black  veil,  who  registered  as  "  P.  P.  Miiller  and 
sister,  America."  And  the  other  pair  consisted  of 
the  Hungarian  lady  with  an  elderly  gentleman  who 
registered  as  "  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Johnson,  England." 
Everybody  knew  that  Mayr  had  had  an  affair  with 
Ilonka  Badacs  and  the  whole  comedy  at  the  hotel  had 
only  been  put  in  scene  by  this  obliging  young  lady  in 
order  to  cover  the  tracks  of  her  virtuous  friend. 

Two  days  after  this  conversation  took  place,  Liszt 
silently  gave  Florian,  in  lieu  of  his  usual  morning 
greeting,  a  letter  which  bore  no  signature  but  which 
described  the  whole  adventure  at  the  "  Black  Bear  Inn  " 
with  relentless  fidelity.  In  it  the  Master  was  most 
solemnly  warned  against  a  person  who  took  advantage 
of  his  amiability  and  good-heartedness  to  use  him  as  an 
accomplice  by  inducing  him  to  invite  to  his  house  in  the 
evening  the  parents  of  a  young  girl  whom  this  person  in- 
tended to  abduct, —  against  a  person  whose  shameless- 


350  Florian  Mayr 

ness  went  so  far  as  to  allow  himself  to  be  caught  with  one 
mistress  in  order  to  conceal  his  adventure  with  another, 
and  who  even  dared  to  secrete  from  her  parents  in  the 
house  of  his  first  mistress  this  second  sweetheart,  an 
estimable  young  girl  of  highly  respectable  family,  the 
fiancee  of  a  gentleman  of  immaculate  reputation. 

"  Well,  Florian,  what  do  you  say  to  this  scoundrelly 
trick  ? "  asked  Liszt,  as  his  pupil  laid  the  letter  down 
without  a  word.  "  I  have  never  taken  any  notice  what- 
ever of  anonymous  denunciations  —  I  have  a  contempt 
for  cowardice,  pchah !  I  know  you  will  tell  me  the 
truth.  Look  here  —  here  are  five  other  dirty  scrawls. 
Each  of  them  contains  about  the  same  thing.  And 
they  also  say  that  you  used  violence  to  prevent  people 
seeing  me,  that  you  laid  hands  on  ladies  and  threw 
them  downstairs,  that  you  assaulted  the  Pole,  to  whom 
I  sent  you  to  ask  pardon  in  my  name,  in  so  brutal  a 
manner  in  the  Park,  that  he  could  hardly  drag  himself 
home,  and  —  that  you  mix  yourself  up  in  other  peo- 
ple's affairs  in  the  most  obtrusive  way  and  treat  my 
most  devoted  friends  most  uncivilly,  and  —  I  don't 
know  what  all!  Now  then,  pray  vindicate  yourself  if 
you  can!  It's  all  woman's  gossip,  isn't  it  —  all  lies 
from  A  to  Z?  Just  say  one  word  and  I'll  believe 
you!" 

But  Florian  was  not  able  to  utter  a  word.  Pale  and 
trembling,  gazing  at  his  kind  Master  with  staring  eyes, 
he  stood  there.  That,  then,  was  a  picture  of  his  char- 
acter as  seen  by  the  eyes  of  his  enemies!  And  the 
worst  of  it  was  that  there  was  not  a  single  direct  un- 
truth in  it  all,  at  least  not  in  the  first  letter.  How  was 
it  possible  for  him  to  persuade  anyone  who  could  not 
read  his  whole  heart  that,  in  spite  of  evil  appearances, 


A  Sorry  Farewell  351 

everything  had  passed  off  in  the  most  harmless  manner  ? 
Before  his  own  conscience  he  had  already  pronounced 
himself  guilty,  and  he  had  lied  to  his  beloved  Master 
too!  How  should  he  begin  his  defense?  —  where 
should  he  end?  In  any  case  he  had  behaved  like  a 
green  and  muddle-headed  youngster.  Ilonka  had  told 
him  that  clearly  enough,  and  he  had  not  denied  it  even 
to  himself.  He  was  not  a  criminal,  but  he  most  cer- 
tainly was  an  ass  that  deserved  a  beating.  And  it  is 
often  harder  to  confess  to  asinine  acts  than  to  serious 
sins.  And  so  Florian  stood  there  abashed  with  hang- 
ing head  and  could  not  say  a  word. 

At  last  Liszt  grew  impatient.     He  took  him  by  the 
shoulder,  gave  him  an  encouraging  shake,  and  cried, 
"  Wake  up,  my  son,  speak  —  I  don't  believe  a  word  of 
it,  do  your  hear  ?     Answer  me :  is  it  true  that  you  pre- 
tended to  have  a  headache  in  order  to  sneak  away  from 
my  soiree  and  run  away  with  the  daughter  of  these 
Berlin  people  whom  you  obliged  me  to  invite  ? " 
"Yes,  sir,— that  is;  I  didn't  exactly  run—" 
"  Did  you  go  to  Jena  with  her  alone  ?  " 
"Yes,  sir!" 

"  Did  you  pass  the  night  with  her  at  the  hotel  ? " 
"  Yes,  sir, —  that  is,  she  slept  with  Fraulein  Badacs." 
"With    the    Badacs!     Ah,    sapristi!     So    it's    all 
true!" 

Pierian  was  silent. 

Liszt  strode  several  times  excitedly  up  and  down  the 
room;  then  he  stopped  in  front  of  Florian  and  asked 
gently, 

"  Tell  me,  my  son,  was  that  —  at  least  —  love  ?  " 
Florian  gave  a  frightened  shudder,  ran  his  trembling 
fingers  through  his  hair,  made  several  vain  attempts  to 


352  Florian  Mayr 

speak  and  finally  blurted  out  confusedly,  "  I  don't 
know!" 

"What,  you  don't  know?"  exclaimed  Liszt  indig- 
nantly. "  So  it  was  merely  a  reckless  trifling  with  a 
human  being's  destiny!  Oh,  shame,  I  say,  shame  on 
you!" 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  no !  "  wailed  Florian.  "  Indeed  it 
wasn't  that !  " 

"  What  else  was  it  ?  You  know  that  I'm  no  Philis- 
tine. If  young  people  with  heedless,  artistic  blood 
indulge  in  trifling  liaisons  that  entail  no  obligation  — 
all  right  —  I  shut  both  eyes  tight!  Let  free  beings 
enjoy  together  the  happy  hours  as  they  flee.  That 
makes  life  better  worth  living  and  is  not  a  question 
of  morals  at  all.  But  what  you  have  been  doing  — 
why,  that  tramples  morality  under  foot!  To  seduce 
a  respectable  girl,  a  fiancee,  and  without  even  the  ex- 
cuse of  love, —  to  make  me  an  accomplice  of  such  a  low 
trick  while  setting  yourself  up  at  the  same  time  as  a 
judge  of  morals  —  ah,  no,  no  —  I  have  made  a  mistake 
in  you !  You  have  hurt  me  cruelly,  pchah  —  I  promised 
myself  so  much  from  that  head  of  yours  —  it  hasn't 
stood  the  test  —  that  frank,  open  forehead  of  yours 
and  your  honest  eyes  have  lied  to  me !  Oh,  that 
wounds  my  heart!  May  God  bring  you  back  again 
to  your  real  self !  I  will  pray  for  you,  my  son  —  but 
go  now,  go !  " 

Florian  left  the  room  in  which  he  had  passed  the 
happiest  days  of  his  life.  He  felt  powerless  to  defend 
himself  in  the  face  of  the  suffering  that  he  had  caused 
his  fatherly  friend  and  Master.  He  rushed  home  pre- 
cipitately, locked  himself  in  his  room,  and  stormed  and 
wept  for  hours  without  ceasing.  Then  he  made  up  his 


A  Sorry  Farewell  353 

mind  to  open  his  heart  to  the  Master  by  letter  and  try 
to  give  him  a  calm  explanation  of  his  singular  behavior. 
But  it  proved  to  be  beyond  his  power;  he  could  hardly 
put  together  more  than  half  a  dozen  coherent  sentences. 
So  he  abandoned  the  idea,  packed  up  his  belongings, 
and,  that  very  afternoon,  without  saying  good-by  to 
a  single  soul,  he  turned  his  back  upon  the  pleasant  City 
of  the  Muses,  where  he  had  found  so  many  joys  and 
honors,  so  much  new  wisdom  and,  alas,  such  bitter 
pain. 


CHAPTER  XVII 
The  Heaviest  Blow 

returned  to  his  parents'  house  in  Bayreuth 
and  there  in  that  quiet  peaceful  home,  surrounded  by 
the  love  and  admiration  of  the  simple  old  people,  he 
sought  to  recover  his  equanimity.  He  told  them  that 
his  nerves  had  suffered  from  overwork  and  that  he 
needed  a  brief  period  of  rest  and  mental  recreation. 
That  Liszt  had  sent  him  away  in  anger  because  of  his 
moral  turpitude  was  the  very  last  thing  he  could  have 
confessed  to  his  parents.  His  mother  noticed  his  ret- 
icent and  subdued  manner  at  once  and  felt  that  some 
secret  sorrow  was  weighing  on  his  heart  more  than  his 
nervous  trouble.  His  father  was  disquieted  chiefly  by 
the  fact  that  Florian  had  spent  in  Weimar  almost  all  of 
his  Berlin  savings  and  was  still  without  definite  pros- 
pects for  the  future.  Time  and  again  he  impressed 
upon  his  son  the  necessity  of  losing  no  time  in  looking 
about  for  a  lucrative  position ;  he  called  him  a  heedless 
fool  and  chid  him  for  allowing  himself  to  be  lured  away 
from  his  connections  in  Berlin  which  might  be  called 
almost  brilliant  without  so  much  as  a  glimmer  of  a 
well-founded  hope  in  exchange  for  them.  Florian  very 
soon  grew  heartily  weary  of  the  old  gentleman's  ever- 
lasting complaints  and  in  consequence  his  daily  walks 
became  longer  and  longer  that  he  might  have  an  ex- 
cuse when  he  got  home  to  shut  himself  up  in  his  room 
354 


The  Heaviest  Blow  355 

and  stretch  out  wearily  on  his  bed  and  think  and  dream 
bj  the  hour.  He  occupied  the  remainder  of  his  time 
about  the  house  in  all  kinds  of  necessary  and  unneces- 
sary tasks  in  the  line  of  cabinet-,  locksmith-,  or  house- 
painting-work.  He  had  a  real  passion  for  hand-labor  in 
any  form  and  if  his  parents  had  not  raised  such  violent 
objections  to  the  everlasting  hammering,  the  smell  of 
lime  and  varnish,  and  the  superfluous  expenditure, 
Florian  would  have  had  the  whole  place  freshly  pa- 
pered and  painted  and  all  the  furniture  newly  varnished 
and  polished. 

He  came  home  to  dinner  one  fine  day,  his  face  fairly 
beaming  with  joy.  Returning  from  one  of  his  walks, 
he  had  found  a  letter  from  Franz  Liszt  in  which  the 
Master  begged  his  pardon  for  having  allowed  himself 
to  be  forced  into  a  hasty  judgment  by  those  anonymous 
accusations  and  by  Florian's  own  peculiar  behavior. 
The  true  state  of  the  case  he  had  learned  from  Ilonka 
Badacs  and  now  he  thought  he  understood  also  the 
reason  for  Florian's  silence.  He  bade  him  be  of  good 
courage  and  not  to  take  his  unfortunate  indiscretion  too 
tragically.  A  few  years  hence  he  would  probably  laugh 
heartily  over  the  affair.  But  in  spite  of  all  this,  it 
would  still  be  better  for  him  not  to  return  to  Weimar  just 
yet  but  to  give  people  time  to  forget  the  scandal.  Other- 
wise it  would  not  be  so  easy  to  calm  the  excitement  of  the 
"  Swarm  "  and  everybody  would  say :  Papa  Liszt  was 
old  and  feeble  and  let  himself  be  tyrannized  over  by 
every  "  Strong-Mayr  "  that  came  along ;  nothing  else 
was  to  be  expected  of  him.  If  Florian  would  come 
to  Eome  in  the  winter  or  to  Weimar  in  the  spring,  he 
would  be  most  cordially  welcome  in  the  circle  of  the 
faithful.  Accompanying  this  letter  was  a  recommenda- 


356  Florian  Mayr 

tion,  couched  in  the  warmest,  most  flattering  terms, 
which  was  to  smooth  his  way  as  concert  virtuoso. 

Florian  congratulated  himself  upon  .the  happy  in- 
spiration which  had  led  him  to  write  to  his  friend, 
Ilonka,  from  Bayreuth;  otherwise  the  Master  would 
not  have  known  his  address.  It  was  a  great  piece  of 
good  fortune,  too,  to  have  had  the  clever,  experienced, 
and  eloquent  Ilonka  plead  his  cause;  he  himself  was 
too  deeply  involved  in  the  whirl  of  contradictory  emo- 
tions to  be  his  own  advocate.  His  good  parents  were 
not  a  little  astonished  at  the  miracle  which  Liszt's 
letter  wrought.  At  a  single  stroke  Florian's  depression 
vanished  and  he  became  again  the  good,  frank,  cheerful 
son  of  former  days.  He  abandoned  his  work  about  the 
house  and  plunged  into  piano  practice  with  an  uncanny 
zeal  in  order  to  get  together  a  concert  repertoire  upon 
which  he  could  rely.  He  also  applied  at  once  to  a 
prominent  Berlin  agency  to  arrange  for  him  a  concert 
tour  for  the  summer  through  the  fashionable  watering- 
places  of  Germany.  Inside  of  a  week  his  fingers  which 
had  grown  stiff  with  rough  work  had  again  become  so 
flexible  that  he  could  to  some  extent  depend  upon  them. 
Then  he  ventured  to  call  at  the  Villa  Wahnfried  which 
he  had  never  before  entered;  he  left  a  letter  of  intro- 
duction which  at  his  request  Liszt  had  taken  special 
pains  to  write  for  him  to  his  son-in-law.  A  few  even- 
ings later  he  was  invited  to  tea  and  after  supper  he 
was  asked  to  play.  From  the  music  which  Florian 
laid  before  him,  Wagner  selected  some  compositions  of 
Liszt,  which  are  scarcely  ever  played  in  public  and 
which  demand  a  quite  unusually  fine  understanding  of 
the  poetical  and  musical  characteristics  of  their  com- 
poser. As  Florian  was  particularly  fond  of  these 


The  Heaviest  Blow  357 

pieces  and  had  studied  them  under  Liszt's  direction,  he 
was  able  to  interpret  them  in  a  really  most  finished 
style.  Wagner  and  his  wife  overwhelmed  him  with 
praise,  and  certain  distinguished  citizens  of  Bayreuth 
who  were  among  the  listeners  were  proud  that  a  native 
of  Bayreuth  should  have  attained  so  high  a  rank.  Of 
course  the  fame  of  Florian's  success  spread  at  once 
through  the  little  town.  From  that  time  on  all  his 
acquaintances  saluted  him  with  a  certain  respect;  he 
had  become  one  of  the  "  big  bugs  "  over  night.  After 
this  he  was  frequently  invited  to  Wahnfried  and  en- 
joyed many  an  hour  full  of  rich  inspiration,  although, 
to  be  sure,  the  cordial  reception  which  the  great  master, 
Wagner,  gave  him  had  no  further  practical  results,  for 
at  that  time  he  already  had  another  young  musician 
working  with  him  and  consequently  had  no  employment 
for  Florian.  But  he  carried  away  with  him  a  warm 
recommendation  in  black  and  white. 

Meanwhile  the  Berlin  agency  had  secured  for  him  a 
series  of  engagements  for  concerts  in  Wiesbaden,  Hom- 
burg,  Ems,  Kissingen,  and  other  watering-places,  great 
and  small,  and  full  of  joyous  hopes  he  entered  upon  his 
concert  tour.  He  had  every  reason  to  be  satisfied  with 
the  applause  and  the  praise  of  the  critics,  which  he 
everywhere  won,  but  on  the  whole  he  was  a  little  dis- 
appointed. His  personal  appearance  was  not  prepos- 
sessing enough  to  lend  the  unfortunate  name  of  Mayr 
any  special  power  of  attraction.  His  looks  did  not 
impress  the  ladies;  he  did  not  know  how  to  pose  and 
assume  a  lot  of  strange  mannerisms  nor  to  beat  the 
tom-tom  of  self-advertisement.  So  it  resulted  that  he 
rarely  played  to  full  houses  and  hence  he  made  only  a 
modest  profit.  When  he  went  back  to  Berlin  at  the  be- 


358  Florian  Mayr 

ginning  of  winter,  his  whole  surplus  for  almost  five 
months  of  work  amounted  to  but  little  more  than  two 
thousand  marks.  Florian  was  clear-headed  enough  to 
perceive  that  there  was  no  great  future  before  him  as  a 
traveling  virtuoso  and  that  it  behooved  him  to  establish 
himself  in  a  secure  position  as  teacher  and  conductor. 
He  then  conceived  a  bold  plan:  he  would  bring  out 
Liszt's  oratorio  of  Christ  in  Berlin. 

All  too  soon  he  was  to  learn  what  a  difficult  task  he 
had  set  himself.  The  agency  which  had  managed  his 
concerts  for  him  was  absolutely  not  to  be  induced,  con- 
sidering their  small  gains  from  his  work,  to  undertake 
the  matter.  Equally  disinclined  were  the  large  musi- 
cal organizations,  academies,  societies,  etc.  A  Maecenas 
to  advance  the  costs  was  not  to  be  found  and  the  direct- 
ors of  the  prominent  orchestral  and  vocal  organizations 
gave  him  distinctly  to  understand  that  if  the  perform- 
ance of  a  great  choral  work  of  Liszt's  which  the  public 
could  neither  appreciate  nor  comprehend,  was  to  be 
brought  about  at  all  in  Berlin  it  would  be  possible  only 
under  the  aegis  of  a  famous  and  tried  conductor,  but 
"  Christ  by  Liszt  under  the  direction  of  Florian 
Mayr  .  .  ."  such  an  announcement  would  not  lure  a  cat ! 
Nevertheless  Florian  was  not  to  be  daunted.  When  all 
his  efforts  had  failed  he  resolved  to  risk  a  performance  at 
his  own  expense. 

Everything  is  to  be  had  for  money,  even  the  best 
things  in  art.  But  the  best  is  dear, —  that  Florian 
discovered  at  once  in  his  very  first  efforts  to  secure  the 
services  of  some  vocalists  of  reputation  for  his  under- 
taking. They  demanded  so  much  that  he  would  have 
had  scarcely  anything  left  for  orchestra  and  chorus. 
Then  he  tried  his  luck  with  the  "promising"  talents 


The  Heaviest  Blow  359 

who  had  not  yet  won  a  name.  Some  of  them  who  had 
to  work  hard  for  their  daily  bread  were  glad  to  close 
with  him  on  modest  terms,  but  those  who  had  enough 
to  live  on  were  not  to  be  allured  by  the  prospect  of  so 
small  a  return  to  place  their  art  at  the  service  of  a  work 
by  which  they  could  not  hope  greatly  to  further  their 
ambition.  Some  of  them  were  candid  enough  to  tell 
Florian  this  in  so  many  words :  Some  Herr  Mayr  or 
other  wanted  to  produce  a  frightfully  long  and  difficult 
work  of  Liszt's !  What  fame  was  to  be  won  by  this  ? 
In  the  great  city  of  Berlin  Liszt  had  at  best  only  a  very 
small  following  and  his  church  music,  being  strongly 
Catholic,  was  even  less  to  the  taste  of  Berliners  than, 
say,  his  symphonic  poems  which,  as  it  was,  were  almost 
never  heard  at  important  concerts.  The  Liszt  cult  was 
confined  to  the  circle  of  the  youngest  German  musicians 
and  to  a  small  part  of  the  high  aristocracy.  If  he  were 
at  least  in  a  position  to  say  that  he  had  this  clique  be- 
hind him ;  if  he  could  say :  Prince  A.  has  taken  fifty 
tickets  for  my  concert,  Princess  B.  twenty,  the  Duke  of 
C.  a  dozen,  and  so  on.  Had  it  not  even  occurred  to 
him  to  secure  the  cooperation  of  the  Countess  Tocken- 
burg  who,  as  Wagner's  friend  and  enthusiastic  cham- 
pion of  the  new  German  music,  would  be  the  natural 
patroness  of  his  undertaking?  The  Countess  Tocken- 
burg,  as  the  wife  of  an  ambassador,  occupied  a  prom- 
inent position  at  court  and  would  surely  have  been  able 
to  induce  sundry  royal  highnesses  to  attend  his  concert. 
Had  that  been  the  case,  he  would  have  had  a  whole  line 
of  competent  singers  at  his  disposal  and,  what  is  more, 
gratis ;  for  then  his  concert  would  have  procured  them 
invitations  to  the  musical  functions  at  those  aristocratic 
houses  which  were  of  prime  importance  to  beginners  as 


360  Florian  Mayr 

being  the  mints  where  new  names  received  the  official 
imprint.  But  without  this  powerful  backing  he  was 
only  a  pianist  warmly  recommended  by  Wagner  and 
Liszt, —  and  that  meant  very  little,  for  in  these  days 
eminent  pianists  were  counted  by  the  dozen  and  Liszt's 
good-hearted  liberality  in  writing  recommendations  was 
already  fairly  notorious.  Even  the  great  Master's 
presence  would  be  no  great  attraction  for  Liszt,  whom 
the  present  generation  had  not  heard  as  a  piano  virtuoso 
no  longer  retained  any  great  popularity.  To  be  sure, 
if  the  Master  himself  would  sit  down  at  the  piano  and 
play  a  few  show  pieces,  then  the  highest  concert  rates 
might  be  asked  and  a  full  house  assured. 

Florian  angrily  choked  down  these  truths.  The  peo- 
ple, who  so  admonished  him,  doubtless  knew  the  condi- 
tions in  Berlin  better  than  he.  Besides  his  own  meager 
experiences  entirely  sufficed  to  convince  him  that  they 
were  right.  The  Countess  Tockenburg!  He  won- 
dered if  he  could  not  perhaps  procure  her  patronage 
after  all,  if  he  should  knock  at  her  door  now,  armed 
with  the  recommendations  of  both  the  great  masters. 
But  she  had  driven  him  from  her  presence  in  shame 
and  disgrace,  nay,  had  even  had  him  shown  out  by  an 
officer !  It  had  been  a  case  of  being  "  thrown  out "  of 
the  most  thorough  description.  If  after  such  a  humilia- 
tion he  should  again  approach  the  countess  as  a 
petitioner,  he  certainly  had  not  a  single  spark  of  pride 
left.  And  yet  after  a  long  painful  struggle  with  him- 
self he  determined  to  make  the  sacrifice  for  the  sake  of 
the  good  cause.  One  abominably  rainy  day  towards 
the  end  of  October,  he  treated  himself  to  a  droschke, 
first-class,  in  order  to  save  his  clothes  and  make  a  good 
impression,  and  drove  up  before  the  palace  Unter  den 


The  Heaviest  Blow  361 

Linden.  He  sent  up  his  card  upon  which  he  had  taken 
care  to  write:  "recommended  by  Liszt  and  Wagner." 
It  was  some  time  before  the  lackey  returned  with  the 
message  that  the  countess  regretted  that  she  was  too 
much  occupied  at  present  to  receive  him;  but  she 
neglected  to  mention  any  time  when  he  might  come 
again.  It  was  therefore  quite  plain  that  she  remem- 
bered the  painful  occurrence  of  the  year  before  and  did 
not  wish  to  have  anything  to  do  with  him. 

That  miserable  Prezewalski  had  been  able  without 
any  special  effort  to  produce  his  wretched  patchwork 
at  the  Singakademie  because  he  had  aristocratic  ac- 
quaintances behind  him  and  the  Burmester  purse, 
while  for  the  magnificent  work  of  a  master  of  the  very 
first  rank  there  were  to  be  found  neither  public  nor 
artists  in  a  city  of  a  million  inhabitants !  That  could 
not  be,  that  must  not  be!  All  the  defiant  courage  of 
Florian's  nature,  all  his  strong  youthful  idealism,  re- 
belled at  the  thought.  He  would  bring  all  the  prophe- 
cies of  the  doubters  to  shame,  he  would  prove  to  these 
lukewarm  weaklings  what  a  powerful  personality 
could  do.  He  went  to  an  important  agent  who  for  a 
large  percentage  engaged  for  him  the  necessary  soloists 
and  a  large  part  of  the  chorus.  For  this  he  had  to 
pay  the  man  cash  down.  There  was  just  one  choral 
society  of  mixed  voices  whose  services  he  was  able  to 
get  for  nothing  through  personal  connections.  Since 
the  first  orchestra  of  Berlin  was  too  expensive,  he  had 
to  content  himself  with  a  second  rate  one,  which,  how- 
ever, because  of  the  numerous  rehearsals  he  was  obliged 
to  bargain  for,  turned  out  in  the  end  dear  enough. 
Finally  he  succeeded  also,  after  knocking  in  vain  at 
many  doors,  in  finding  a  church  in  the  Southwest  dis- 


362  Florian  Mayr 

trict,  whose  consistory  had  the  courage  to  put  their 
Protestant  place  of  worship  at  the  disposal  of  the 
Catholic  Master. 

He  now  considered  all  his  difficulties  happily  over- 
come. The  costs,  to  be  sure,  considerably  exceeded  his 
capital  but  he  was  certain  that  the  money  for  tickets 
would  amply  cover  the  deficit.  He  put  confidence  in 
the  amiable  phrases  of  the  newspaper  editors  who  prom- 
ised to  support  his  undertaking  and  he  was  more  than 
happy  when  he  found  his  first  reading  notice  in  a  large 
number  of  the  papers,  from  which,  to  be  sure,  many 
exuberant  passages  had  been  elided  that  he  had  penned 
in  praise  of  the  great  work.  Then  he  attacked  his  task 
with  fiery  zeal.  In  his  large  room  in  the  Luisenplatz  at 
the  widow  Stoltenhagen's  which  upon  his  return  to 
Berlin  he  had  fortunately  found  unoccupied,  he  held 
his  solo  rehearsals  every  forenoon.  Here  new  and  sad 
experiences  awaited  him.  Some  of  the  singers  proved 
to  be  so  unmusical  that  it  was  impossible  to  teach  them 
their  difficult  parts;  their  places  had  to  be  filled  by 
others.  Some  who  already  considered  themselves  great 
artists  lost  patience  and  grumbled  at  the  number  of 
rehearsals  and  at  Florian's  rigid  exactions.  The  worry 
over  these  presumptuous  persons  who  approached  their 
tasks  quite  without  enthusiasm  and  yet  wanted  to  be 
handled  as  if  they  were  eggs,  drove  Florian  almost 
to  despair.  Two  only,  of  the  women  singers,  evinced 
the  slightest  gratitude  for  the  infinite  pains  he  took  with 
them  and  they  by  their  zeal  and  devotion  restored  his 
courage.  In  the  chorus,  too,  he  took  some  modest  pleas- 
ure. These  rehearsals  were  held  evenings  in  the  hall 
of  a  schoolhouse.  There  was  a  deal  of  sighing  and 
groaning  over  the  difficulties  of  the  work  and  over  the 


The  Heaviest  Blow  363 

never-ending  evenings  of  practice  and  the  members  in 
ever  increasing  numbers  stayed  away,  with  or  without 
adequate  excuses.  But  still,  on  the  whole,  they  showed 
a  good  will  and  from  evening  to  evening  the  mighty 
work  assumed  an  ever  firmer  form.  Florian's  heart 
beat  fast  when  he  mounted  the  director's  stand  at  the 
first  orchestral  rehearsal.  He  was  most  intimately  fa- 
miliar with  the  score  and  at  home,  baton  in  hand,  he 
had  so  often  gone  through  the  work  that  he  knew  every 
difficult  entrance  by  heart ;  but  he  had  never  led  a  great 
body  of  instruments  before  and  he  knew  well  with  what 
malicious  pleasure  old  orchestra  players  detected  at 
once  every  uncertainty  on  the  part  of  a  young  director 
and  spitefully  tormented  him  by  inattention  or  even 
by  intentionally  playing  false  notes.  But  for  Florian 
the  first  rehearsal  proved  to  be  also  a  first  triumph. 
The  musicians,  who  at  first  had  chatted  together  and 
laughed  and  annoyed  him  greatly  by  all  kinds  of  non- 
sense and  superfluous  questions,  soon  discovered  that 
they  had  to  do  with  a  man  who  understood  his  business 
thoroughly  and  went  at  it  with  artistic  seriousness. 
At  the  close  of  the  rehearsal  the  entire  orchestra  broke 
into  applause  and  an  old  bassoonist,  who  had  played 
under  Wagner  in  Dresden  in  1848,  pressed  his  hand  and 
congratulated  him  in  cordial,  simple  words,  which, 
after  all  the  disappointments  and  annoyances  he  had 
suffered,  filled  Florian  with  new  confidence  and  heart- 
felt joy. 

Florian  was  struck  by  the  fact  that  the  greater  part 
of  the  newspapers  had  not  printed'  his  last  reading 
notice.  That  was  Prczewalski's  doing.  As  soon  as  he 
learned  of  the  contemplated  performance  of  Christ,  he 
notified  all  the  editors  either  directly  or  through  in- 


364  Florian  Mayr 

termediaries  that  this  Pierian  Mayr  was  a  swindler  of 
the  worst  kind  whom  Liszt  had  expelled  from  his  circle 
on  account  of  disgraceful  conduct;  that  in  addition  to 
this  he  had  never  directed  an  orchestra  and  for  that 
reason  alone  was  the  most  unfit  champion  imaginable 
of  the  genius  of  Liszt  for  the  imperial  capital.  On 
the  strength  of  this  and  without  making  further  in- 
quiries, most  of  the  editors  had  simply  tossed  Florian's 
next  reading  notice  into  the  waste  basket. 

That  was  a  week  before  the  performance.  The  ex- 
citement and  over-exertion  had  already  thrown  Florian 
into  so  feverish  a  state  that  he  was  no  longer  capable  of 
ferreting  out  the  cause  of  this  sudden  unfriendliness  on 
the  part  of  the  press.  His  next  notice  was  to  read: 
"  Abbe  Dr.  Franz  Liszt  has  arrived  in  Berlin  in  order 
to  attend  in  person  the  performance  of  his  oratorio 
Christ  which  will  take  place  on  next  Saturday  at  seven 
o'clock  in  such  and  such  a  church  under  the  direction 
of  his  pupil,  Florian  Mayr."  They  would  have  to 
print  that  and  then  all  would  be  well;  in  Florian's 
estimation  large  receipts  were  already  assured.  Thus 
far,  to  be  sure,  not  a  single  ticket  had  been  sold  and 
the  only  audience*  that  could  be  confidently  counted 
upon  consisted  of  the  friends  and  relatives  of  those 
who  were  to  take  part,  every  one  of  whom,  man  and 
woman,  had  begged  at  least  two  complimentary  tickets. 
Florian's  ready  cash  was  almost  all  gone  for  what  he 
had  not  advanced  in  salaries  he  had  been  obliged  to  give 
to  the  agent  as  a  guaranty.  He  had  not  even  kept 
enough  to  procure  proper  nourishment  for  himself  dur- 
ing the  trying  weeks  of  preparation.  He  took  his  noon- 
day meals  in  wretched  cabmen's  resorts  or  in  the  soup 
kitchens  and  at  night  contented  himself  principally 


The  Heaviest  Blow  365 

with  bread  and  cheese.  But  in  spite  of  all  these  dep- 
rivations and  the  undue  strain  on  his  nerves,  his 
enthusiasm  for  his  bold  undertaking  still  kept  him  up. 
Confidence  in  his  ultimate  triumph  grew  upon  him  the 
nearer  the  day  of  the  performance  approached.  His 
revered  Master's  joyful  gratitude  for  the  splendid  sur- 
prise he  had  in  store  for  him  was  to  be  his  greatest  re- 
ward. 

Kot  until  the  evening  of  his  first  general  rehearsal 
did  he  inform  Liszt  of  the  great  event  that  was  about 
to  take  place  and  invite  him  to  attend  the  performance. 
He  knew  that  the  Master  intended  to  remain  in  Weimar 
this  year  till  the  end  of  October  and  he  was  absolutely 
sure  that  he  would  gladly  accept  and  postpone  for  a 
few  days  his  trip  to  Eome.  It  was  five  days  before  an 
answer  arrived.  The  envelope  bore  an  Italian  postage 
stamp.  Florian  tore  it  open  with  trembling  hands. 
His  eyes  flew  over  the  lines.  Suddenly  he  cried  out, — 
it  was  a  suppressed  oath  such  as  one  utters  in  violent 
pain, —  again  he  stared  at  the  letter  and  then,  as  if 
feeling  for  some  support,  he  grasped  at  the  air  with 
both  hands  outspread, —  and  fell  in  a  faint. 

The  widow  Stoltenhagen  who  was  busy  at  the  mo- 
ment in  the  adjoining  room  heard  a  noise  that  sounded 
as  if  a  chair  had  been  thrown  violently  to  the  floor 
and  then  a  dull  thud.  She  ran  to  her  tenant's  room 
in  a  fright  and  entered  without  knocking.  Her  first 
thought  was  that  her  choleric  Herr  Mayr  had  probably 
hurled  a  chair  at  the  head  of  one  of  the  singers' who 
studied  with  him  and  she  was  going  to  forbid  him 
once  for  all  to  treat  her  furniture  in  that  fashion.  But 
when  she  found  Herr  Mayr  stretched  out  as  if  lifeless 
on  the  floor,  holding  a  letter  crushed  in  his  left  hand, 


366  Florian  Mayr 

she  clasped  her  hands  together,  exclaiming :  "  My 
God,  he's  had  a  stroke!" 

But,  before  she  summoned  assistance,  she  carefully 
drew  the  letter  from  the  fingers  of  the  unconscious  man, 
took  it  to  the  window,  and  with  feverish  anxiety  tried 
to  read  it. 

It  ran.  as  follows : 

KOME,  HOTEL  ALIBERT,  VIA  BABUINO, 

November  3rd,  1880. 
"  My  dear  young  friend: 

It  is  hard  for  me  to  say  'no.'  I  cannot  possibly  give 
my  consent  to  have  my  oratorio  of  Christ  which  is  dedi- 
cated to  his  Holiness  the  Pope  first  produced  in  Germany 
and,  especially  in  Berlin  of  all  cities  in  the  world,  for  that 
is  the  headquarters  of  the  '  kulturkampf '  against  our 
church, —  and  still  less  to  have  it  given  in  a  Protestant 
place  of  worship.  You  meant  it  for  the  best,  my  dear 
St.  Florian,  and  I  know  how  deeply  I  am  paining  you, — 
but  I  cannot  act  otherwise.  Even  should  my  '  religious 
scruples'  seem  to  you  of  no  importance,  there  are  still 
reasons  enough  left  why  a  performance  of  my  Christ  in 
Berlin  would  be  displeasing  to  me.  How  could  I  feel 
otherwise  in  the  face  of  negative  criticisms  and  why  should 
I  not  prefer  to  bide  my  time  in  peace  alone?  In  these 
days  the  artist  reckons  without  his  host  if  he  honestly 
puts  his  trust  in  the  public.  They  listen  and  judge  only 
according  to  the  newspapers.  In  a  way  I  profit  by  this 
inasmuch  as  Vienna,  Budapest,  Leipsic,  Berlin,  Paris, 
London,  etc.,  and  their  most  distinguished  and  influential 
papers,  which  denounce  my  compositions  as  worthless  and 
repellent,  relieve  me  of  all  necessity  of  making  a  choice. 
Why  give  performances  for  people  who  only  want  to  read 
newspapers?  Why,  too,  did  you  not  write  me  sooner  of 
your  plan?  Furthermore  with  the  best  intentions  in  the 
world  I  could  not  have  gone  to  Berlin.  I  stayed  in  Wei- 


The  Heaviest  Blow  367 

mar  unusually  late  this  year  and  it  was  impossible  to  put 
off  my  trip  to  Eome  any  longer. 

"  Take  my  cordial  thanks  for  your  good  intentions.     I 
am  sure  you  would  have  accomplished  something  excellent, 
my  brave  St.  Florian,  and  try  not  to  be  angry  with 
Your  sincere  friend 

FRANZ  LISZT." 

Of  course  Frau  Stoltenhagen  could  not  decipher  in 
so  short  a  time  the  fine  rapid  rather  large  strokes  of 
this  handwriting  but  from  the  first  lines  she  discovered 
that  nothing  -was  to  come  of  the  performance  upon 
•which  Herr  Mayr  had  worked  so  long,  and  that  satis- 
fied her  curiosity  for  the  present  She  then  called  her 
niece  from  Pomerania,  who  still  lived  with  her,  having 
failed  to  interest  any  of  the  gentlemen  who  had  oc- 
cupied the  room  during  the  summer.  By  a  combined 
effort  the  two  women  dragged  the  unconscious  man 
to  the  bed.  Frau  Stoltenhagen  made  him  as  comfort- 
able as  possible,  taking  off  his  shoes  and  outer  clothing 
and  unbuttoning  his  stiff  collar.  Then  she  went  for 
the  physician,  impressing  it  upon  the  girl  that  she  must 
apply  cold  compresses  to  the  patient's  head  and  not 
let  him  stir  from  his  bed.  It  was  impossible  to  fore- 
see what  a  good  thing  it  might  be  if,  when  he  came  to, 
his  first  glance  should  rest  upon  her  as  his  good  angel. 
It  had  not  infrequently  happened  that  fine  young  gen- 
tlemen married  their  nurses. 

Florian  had  recovered  consciousness  before  the  physi- 
cian arrived.  He  looked  wildly  about  and  at  once 
recognized  the  Pomeranian  niece  just  at  the  moment 
when  she  was  engaged  on  her  own  account  in  the  care- 
ful perusal  of  the  letter. 

""Will   you   give   me   that   letter,    you  goose,   you 


368  Florian  Mayr 

stupid !  "  were  his  first  words  and  his  voice  was  not 
exactly  flutelike. 

The  girl  shrieked  in  terror  and  with  the  letter  in 
her  outstretched  hand  timidly  approached  the  bed.  He 
snatched  it  from  her  and  stared  at  it,  but  the  characters 
swam  before  his  eyes  and  he  sank  back  upon  the  pillow 
with  a  groan. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  she  ventured,  very  softly, 
to  ask  if  he  did  not  wish  a  fresh  compress. 

"  Compress !  What's  that  mean  ?  "  stammered  Flo- 
rian with  thick  tongue.  Then  he  suddenly  roused  him- 
self into  a  half  sitting  posture  and  in  a  rage  he 
flung  the  wet  towel  which  had  slipped  from  his  head 
into  the  middle  of  the  room.  "  There  you've  got  your 
compress !  "  he  cried  hoarsely.  "  If  I  could  only  sup- 
press you  all  with  it,  you  miserable  mob !  My  God,  I'd 
like  to  smash  the  lot  of  you,  the  whole  lot !  What  are 
you  standing  there  that  way  for,  woman  ?  What  are 
you  looking  at  ?  There,  take  my  watch,  my  coat,  my 
trousers,  my  shirt  for  all  I  care,  and  take  them  to  the 
pawn-shop ;  —  if  you  don't,  you'll  never  see  another 
penny  of  mine." 

"  Oh,  Herr  Mayr,  it  can't  be  so  bad  as  all  that !  " 
said  the  good  niece,  trying  to  comfort  him.  "  Wait  till 
you  get  well  again." 

"  What,  do  you  think  I'm  sick  ?  "  cried  Florian  in  a 
rage.  "  I  can't  be  sick,  I  haven't  time, —  nonsense !  " 
He  pounded  his  forehead  with  both  fists :  "  Only  you 
stand  by  me,  you  old  skull !  ha,  ha,  ha !  "  and  he  burst 
into  mocking  laughter.  Then  he  sank  back  exhausted. 
But  it  was  only  for  a  few  moments  that  he  rested, 
breathing  heavily;  then  he  suddenly  sprang  from  the 
bed  on  both  feet.  The  girl  was  frightened  and  started 


The  Heaviest  Blow  369 

to  run  away  but  with  a  loud  "  Stop !  "  he  brought  her 
to  a  standstill  on  the  threshold.  He  took  a  few  steps 
across  the  room  and  became  aware  that  he  was  scarcely 
able  to  stand.  He  beckoned  the  niece  and,  steadying 
himself  on  her  shoulder,  he  reached  his  writing  desk. 

"  Oh  dear,  Herr  Mayr !  Don't  you  want  to  put  on 
your  trousers  ?  "  exclaimed  the  girl  in  a  kindly  tone 
as  she  saw  him  sink  into  the  chair  before  the  desk,  limp 
and  exhausted. 

"  Will  you  help  me  on  with  them,  my  child  ?  "  replied 
Morian,  raising  his  head  and  smiling  feebly.  "  But 
don't  make  any  mistake,  you  won't  get  anything  for 
it.  It's  all  over  with  me;  —  to-morrow  I'll  have  to 
go  begging." 

"  Oh,  pshaw,  how  can  you  talk  that  way  ? "  laughed 
the  niece  good-humoredly,  laying  her  red,  chapped, 
workworn  hands  consolingly  upon  his  shoulder.  "  An 
artist  like  you  don't  go  to  pieces  so  easily !  " 

"  Hm,  the  toad  has  some  feeling !  "  said  Pierian  with 
a  melancholy  smile.  "  I'll  leave  you  something  in  my 
will,  Fraulein  Frieda.  I  still  own  a  respectable  um- 
brella; or  would  you  rather  have  a  copy  of  Goethe's 
poems  ?  My  God,  it's  all  over  with  me, —  it's  all  over 
with  me !  "  He  buried  his  face  in  his  hands  and  his 
head  fell  heavily  on  the  desk. 

For  a  long  while  he  sat  there  in  this  position,  just 
groaning  faintly  from  time  to  time.  He  recovered  him- 
self at  last  and,  having  sent  the  girl  away,  he  dressed. 
When  the  physician  arrived,  the  patient  was  no  longer 
to  be  found.  The  niece  had  begged  and  besought  him 
but  could  not  hold  him  back.  At  the  nearest  groggery 
he  had  drunk  two  glasses  of  brandy  to  rouse  his  flagging 
spirits  and  then  had,  taken  his  sorrowful  way  to  his 


370  Florian  Mayr 

agent  to  tell  him  that  the  performance  could  not  take 
place. 

The  days  which  now  followed  brought  with  them 
trials  that  it  was  beyond  human  power  to  endure.  The 
agent  had  cheated  Florian  shamelessly  and,  instead  of 
paying  the  stipulated  salaries,  had  simply  embezzled 
the  money.  And  Florian  had  put  confidence  in  the 
man, —  he  had  not  asked  for  a  single  receipt!  De- 
mands for  payment  and  threats  of  suit  showered  in 
upon  him.  Against  the  scoundrel  who  had  cheated  him 
he  was  powerless  for  he  had  neither  papers  nor  wit- 
nesses to  produce  in  evidence  and,  since  he  was  entirely 
without  means,  he  was  unable  to  bring  suit  on  his  own 
behalf.  Some  of  his  creditors  had  come  to  his  room 
to  denounce  him  as  a  swindler  and  in  some  of  the 
newspapers  the  announcement  of  the  failure  of  the 
Christ  performance  was  accompanied  by  malicious  com- 
ments. Certain  musical  periodicals  in  particular  pub- 
lished notices  full  of  spiteful  allusions  to  the  bold 
swindle  which  another  of  the  so-called  "  favorite 
pupils  "  of  Liszt  had  tried  to  perpetrate.  Florian  was 
no  longer  able  to  defend  himself ;  he  had  not  the  strength 
to  put  his  denials  into  written  form  or  in  any  other 
way  to  bring  his  detractors  to  an  accounting.  A  severe 
typhus  fever  had  thrown  him  helpless  upon  a  sick  bed. 

In  this  emergency  the  most  natural  thing  for  the 
widow  Stoltenhagen  to  have  done  was  to  pack  her  sick 
tenant  off  to  a  hospital,  for  at  first  he  lay  there  quite 
unconscious  and  consequently  could  give  no  expression 
to  his  wishes ;  besides  he  was  absolutely  bankrupt.  No 
one  could  have  blamed  her  for  taking  this  course,  but 
singularly  enough  she  insisted  upon  keeping  him  there, 
nursing  him  herself  and  even  advancing  the  money 


The  Heaviest  Blow  371 

necessary  for  the  physician  and  apothecary.  In  spite 
of  the  fact  that  her  awful  curiosity  and  her  little  pecula- 
tions had  thoroughly  enraged  the  good  Florian  and 
that  for  two  whole  years  she  had  been  obliged  to  swallow 
in  retaliation  his  choicest  insults  and  most  malicious 
thrusts,  yet  in  her  widowed  heart  a  strange  feeling  of 
faithful  attachment,  yes,  one  might  almost  say,  of  em- 
bittered tenderness  had  found  an  abiding  place. 
Doubtless  this  feeling  derived  its  chief  nourishment 
from  the  hope  that  after  all  fate  had  ordained  that  her 
Pomeranian  niece  was  to  become  Frau  Florian  Mayr. 
This  persistent  hope  had  recently  been  strengthened  by 
the  discovery  that  Florian  had  called  her  Frieda  a 
"  toad  with  some  feeling  "  and  had  promised  to  leave 
her  in  his  will  his  new  umbrella  or  even  a  copy  of 
Goethe's  poems.  With  this  niece,  now  so  full  of  pros- 
pects, she  shared  the  not  too  easy  task  of  caring  for  the 
sick  man  and  with  fair  conscientiousness  she  followed 
the  directions  of  the  physician. 

When  the  typhus  had  reached  its  crisis  and  Florian 
was  raving  in  wild  phantasies  day  and  night,  Baron 
von  Eied  called.  He  had  read  the  shameful  charges  in 
the  papers  and  now  had  come  to  learn  the  truth  from 
the  lips  of  his  severely  arraigned  friend  and,  if  need 
be,  to  offer  him  his  assistance.  He  heard  with  dismay 
of  the  baleful  effect  which  this  all  too  severe  trial  had 
had  upon  the  unfortunate  Florian.  He  sat  by  the  sick 
man's  bedside  until  the  physician  came.  From  him  he 
learned  that  the  hope  of  recovery  was  only  very  slight 
He  subsequently  ascertained  from  Frau  Stoltenhagen 
that  Florian's  financial  condition  was  equally  desperate. 
Although  he  himself  was  by  no  means  a  man  of  wealth, 
he  presented  the  faithful  widow  with  a  couple  of  gold 


372  Florian  Mayr 

pieces  and  promised  to  raise  among  Florian's  friends 
and  acquaintances  a  fund  that  should  help  him  out  of 
his  troubles;  he  would  also  let  his  parents  know  what 
had  happened. 

The  very  next  day  the  baron  came  again  to  inquire 
after  the  patient.  But  this  time  he  was  not  alone. 
He  brought  with  him  a  very  elegant  young  lady,  who, 
in  spite  of  the  violent  opposition  of  the  widow  Stolten- 
hagen,  succeeded  in  making  her  way  to  the  sick  room. 
It  was  Ilonka  Badacs.  She  had  played  at  a  concert 
the  night  before  and  the  baron  had  instantly  sought  her 
out. 

At  the  sight  of  her  friend  so  near  to  death's  door 
she  showed  deep  emotion  and  announced  her  firm  resolu- 
tion not  to  leave  his  bedside,  at  least  until  the  crisis 
should  be  past.  She  had  brought  a  little  valise  with 
her  containing  her  principal  necessities.  The  physi- 
cian was  very  glad  to  find  that  in  these  days  of  danger 
there  was  going  to  be  an  intelligent  and  sensible  woman 
at  the  patient's  side  and  he  did  all  he  could  to  over- 
come the  jealous  opposition  of  Frau  Stoltenhagen  and 
her  niece.  The  conclusive  argument  in  this  matter, 
however,  was  that  Fraulein  Badacs  made  herself  re- 
sponsible for  the  rent  and  all  the  expenses  incident  to 
the  illness. 

The  next  night  came  the  crisis.  Frau  Stoltenhagen 
and  her  niece  had  gone  to  bed,  when  the  fever  returned 
with  terrific  intensity.  The  thermometer  which  Ilonka 
had  put  in  his  arm  pit  rose  in  a  few  minutes  to  over 
106°.  With  wide  open  eyes  Florian  flung  himself  rest- 
lessly about  in  bed  and  talked  incessantly,  for  the 
most  part  unintelligible,  crazy  stuff.  He  laughed 
aloud,  he  thrashed  about  him  with  his  fists,  and  ground 


The  Heaviest  Blow  373 

his  teeth  as  if  he  were  in  some  wild  struggle  with  an 
enemy.  I^ow  and  then  a  few  names  and  sentences 
could  be  understood.  Evidently  his  Weimar  experi- 
ences again  occupied  his  mind  for  he  called  several  of 
Liszt's  pupils  by  name  and  every  now  and  then  spoke 
the  word  "Master."  All  at  once  he  began  to  shout 
loudly  and  distinctly :  "  I'm  a  fallen  man, —  fallen ! 
My  God,  oh,  the  deuce  and  all !  Ilonka  don't  make 
me  suffer  that!  Don't  you  hear?  Ilonka,  I'm  crazy, 
I'm  going  to  marry  you  or  the  devil  may  sew  me  up  in 
a  bagpipe.  What  do  you  want  of  the  English  horn  ? 
Slap,  bang,  now  you  have  it!  That's  the  way,  ha,  ha, 
ha !  Hurry  up,  the  train  leaves  in  ten  minutes.  Oh, 
you  sweet  treasure,  darling,  my  only  one!  It's  a  lie, 
it's  not  so.  I  won't  let  you  out !  Oho !  '  Finis 
Poloniae.'  See,  the  funeral  barges  are  coming. 
There  she  lies,  nothing  but  flowers,  nothing  but  lilies ! 
my  Ilonka!" 

At  this  she  sobbed  aloud  and  threw  herself  upon 
him.  Holding  his  restlessly  waving  arms  fast  in  her 
two  hands,  she  brought  her  face  close  to  his.  "  No,  no, 
dear  friend,  I'm  here,"  she  cried,  "  your  Ilonka  is  here 
with  you, —  just  look !  " 

He  opened  his  eyes  still  wider  and  stared  at  her; 
something  resembling  a  smile  flitted  over  his  burning 
face.  She  took  the  ice  bag  from  his  head  to  refill  it 
and  gave  him  his  febrifuge.  He  swallowed  it  but  in 
another  moment  he  began  to  laugh,  chatter,  groan, 
whimper,  and  thrash  about  in  such  noisy  and  mad  con- 
fusion that  she  did  not  venture  to  leave  his  side. 

"  What  is  it  now  ?  What  my  little  dove  want  ?  "  she 
whispered  close  to  his  ear,  as  she  pushed  the  damp 
hair  back  from  his  brow  with  her  delicate  fingers. 


374  Florian  Mayr 

He  gazed  at  her  steadily  and  murmured  something 
which  she  could  not  understand. 

"  What  you  want  ?  You  poor  dear  boy !  Every- 
thing you  want  you  shall  have,  if  you'll  only  get  well 
again."  His  hands  groped  about  uncertainly  upon  the 
counterpane.  She  gave  him  both  of  hers  and  he  held 
them  fast,  oh,  so  fast!  in  a  feverish  grip.  He  tugged 
at  them  feebly  and  raised  them  slowly  to  his  hot  fore- 
head until  they  rested  soothingly,  caiessingly  on  his 
throbbing  temples.  That  seemed  to  do  him  good.  He 
let  his  own  hands  fall  back  limply  upon  the  counter- 
pane where  they  lay  quiet.  Then  he  closed  his  eyes 
and  soon  began  to  breathe  deeper  and  more  regularly. 

Ilonka  was  kneeling  by  his  bedside  with  her  hands 
outstretched  in  the  most  uncomfortable  position  in  the 
world.  She  ached  in  every  joint ;  her  limbs  grew  numb, 
but  she  dared  not  move.  Her  soft  cool  touch 
seemed  to  hypnotize  him ;  —  in  a  few  minutes  he  was 
sound  asleep. 

The  next  morning  great  joy  reigned  among  the  three 
nurses  when  the  physician  declared  that  the  crisis  was 
successfully  passed  and  the  patient  on  the  way  to  re- 
covery. The  unselfish  devotion  of  one  great-hearted 
woman  had  saved  his  life. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
Victory  at  Last 

NEXT  morning,  as  soon  as  the  physician  had  declared 
the  crisis  of  the  disease  passed,  Ilonka  packed  up  her 
few  things  and  was  driven  to  her  hotel,  in  order  to 
fulfill  the  first  duty  to  exhausted  nature  by  taking  a 
good  long  sleep.  And  when  she  awoke  towards  noon, 
reinvigorated  and  as  hungry  as  a  bear,  she  could  think 
only  with  a  shudder  of  the  close  sick-room  air  and 
all  the  ridiculously  repulsive  duties  which  the  care 
of  a  patient  slowly  recovering  from  fever  and  weakened 
to  the  point  of  helplessness  had  imposed  upon  her. 
Teremtete  !  —  faugh !  That  was  not  in  her  line.  She 
had  been  obviously  called  upon  to  stand  by  her  help- 
less, deserted  friend  in  his  struggle  with  death,  and  she 
had  done  her  duty  and  helped  him  over  the  mountain. 
She  had  done  it  willingly  too,  and  heaven  might  well 
forgive  her  a  bunch  of  amorous  piccadillos  as  a  reward 
for  her  labor  of  love.  But  now  she  longed  to  live 
again  and  be  merry.  She  reflected,  too,  that  it  would 
be  dangerous  to  heap  her  coals  of  fire  too  high  upon 
Florian's  crazy  pate,  for  the  fellow  was  quite  capable 
of  persecuting  her,  out  of  pure  gratitude,  with  his  tire- 
some love,  and  even  offers  of  marriage,  for  the  rest  of 
her  life.  Besides  she  had  no  more  time  to  waste  now, 
for  she  was  to  play  at  a  concert  in  Dresden  on  the 
next  day  but  one, —  and  besides  she  needed  money. 
Her  mind  was  soon  made  up.  She  lunched  well  and 
375 


376  Florian  Mayr 

heartily  at  noon  and  then  wrote  two  letters,  the  first  to 
Baron  von  Hied  and  the  other  to  Thekla.  Then,  after 
a  moment's  reflection,  she  also  wrote  a  line  or  two  on 
her  visiting-card  to  a  music-loving  officer  in  the  Guards 
whose  acquaintance  she  had  made  not  long  before. 
She  sent  the  letter  to  Thekla  by  a  messenger,  who  was 
instructed  to  wait  for  an  answer,  and  in  the  meantime 
she  stretched  herself  out  on  the  lounge  for  a  comfortable 
noonday  siesta. 

Fraulein  Burmester  followed  almost  on  the  heels  of 
the  messenger  who  announced  to  Ilonka  that  she  was 
on  the  way. 

"How  sweet  of  you  to  write  me!  Thank  you  a 
thousand  times !  "  she  called  out  to  Ilonka  as  she  en- 
tered. "  I've  had  such  an  awful  time  again, —  my  par- 
ents read  all  those  nasty  things  about  Herr  Mayr  in  the 
papers.  You  can  imagine  how  mamma  used  them  to 
sneer  at  me  and  humiliate  me.  But  even  papa  be- 
lieved it  all  too.  I  was  looking  forward  so  eagerly  to 
the  concert.  I  thought  of  course  Herr  Mayr  would 
triumph  over  all  his  enemies  and  be  a  celebrated  man 
right  off.  Those  were  all  lies,  weren't  they,  Fraulein, 
that  were  in  the  papers  ?  If  I'd  only  a  suspicion  that 
poor  Herr  Mayr  was  so  ill !  " 

Ilonka  made  the  excited  girl  sit  down  beside  her  on 
the  lounge  and  asked  with  a  smile,  "Well,  what  you 
done  if  you  known,  eh  ?  Papa  and  mamma  would  never 
allow  you  go  nurse  him,  that  would  be  wrong  for  re- 
spectable young  lady !  " 

"  Oh,  that  would  have  been  all  the  same  to  me !  " 
cried  Thekla  ardently.  "  There  are  higher  duties  than 
obeying  papa  and  mamma  when  they  want  one  to  do 
something  silly !  " 


Victory  at  Last  377 

"  Brava !  "  exclaimed  Ilonka,  putting  her  arm  ten- 
derly round  Thekla's  slender  waist.  Then  she  told 
about  Liszt's  letter,  which  of  course  she  had  read,  and 
about  Florian's  grave  financial  situation,  as  much  as 
she  herself  knew  about  it.  And  finally  she  described 
the  course  of  the  sickness  and  pointed  out  the  great  im- 
portance to  the  patient  of  careful  nursing,  particularly 
just  now,  when  the  slightest  excitement  might  be  the 
cause  of  a  fatal  relapse.  And  she  added  a  wee  but 
weighty  falsehood  to  the  effect  that  Florian,  in  his  fever 
delirium,  had  never  ceased  to  ask  for  his  Thekla. 

"  What,  he  asked  for  me  ? "  whispered  Thekla  with 
a  rapturous  smile.  "  He  shall  not  be  disappointed  in 
me.  I'm  going  right  to  him  and  I  shall  stay  with  him 
until  he  doesn't  need  me  any  longer!  And  I  sha'n't 
ask  anybody's  permission  either!  It's  just  lovely  that 
papa  and  mamma  aren't  at  home.  I'll  drive  right  to 
the  house,  pack  up  what's  necessary,  and  then  you  must 
take  me  to  him !  " 

"  Me  ?  Oho,  I  think  not  at  all !  "  replied  Ilonka, 
shaking  her  head.  "You  just  leave  me  quite  out! 
When  he  wake  up  you  must  be  first  one  he  sees.  He 
need  not  know  I  was  there  at  all." 

Then  suddenly  Thekla  threw  her  arms  round  Ilonka 
and  cried,  scarcely  able  to  restrain  her  tears,  "  Oh, 
you're  so  good,  and  I'm  so  bad !  I  thought  you  — " 

Ilonka  put  her  hand  over  Thekla's  mouth  and  said 
with  a  laugh,  "  I  know,  I  know,  little  one !  No  mat- 
ter—  we  all  jealous  when  we  are  in  love!  " 

Then  the  two  girls  took  an  affectionate  leave  of  each 
other  with  all  kinds  of  good  wishes  for  the  future. 
Ilonka  gave  Thekla  the  address  of  Baron  von  Eied,  so 
that  she  might  have  a  trustworthy  friend  to  turn  to  in 


378  Florian  Mayr 

case  she  needed  advice,  and  counseled  her  to  take  as 
much  money  as  possible  with  her,  as  she  had  not  found 
a  single  penny  in  Florian's  possession. 

Between  five  and  six  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  the 
same  day  Thekla  and  her  trunk  arrived  in  the  Luisen- 
platz.  Frau  Stoltenhagen  eyed  her  with  unconcealed 
disapproval,  but  nevertheless  finally,  allowed  her  to 
enter  the  sick-chamber,  as  she  claimed  to  have  been 
sent  by  Fraulein  Badacs  to  take  her  place.  Prom  rea- 
sons of  prudence  Thekla  did  not  give  the  landlady  her 
real  name,  so  that  she  should  not  be  tempted  to  com- 
municate with  her  parents. 

Florian  still  slept  the  deep  sleep  of  convalescence. 
When  at  last,  towards  seven  o'clock,  he  finally  awoke 
and  saw  the  sweet  young  girl  in  the  simple  gray  woolen 
dress  sitting  on  the  edge  of  his  bed,  he  stared  long  at 
the  lovely  vision,  as  one  lost  in  a  dream,  but  without 
emotion,  until  at  last  a  smile  of  recognition  flitted 
across  his  emaciated  features. 

"  Thekla !  "  he  cried  softly,  and  his  hands  groped 
about  for  hers.  , 

"  Yes,  I  am  here  with  you,"  she  replied,  "  and  now 
you're  going  to  be  quite  well  again  soon !  " 

"  Now  I'm  going  to  be  quite  well  again  soon !  "  he 
repeated  after  her  and  continued  to  gaze  steadily  into 
her  eyes. — 

And  Florian  really  did  get  well  again,  though  very 
slowly.  It  was  not  until  a  few  days  before  Christmas 
that  he  was  able,  with  the  aid  of  a  walking-stick  and 
Thekla's  arm,  to  take  a  short  walk  in  the  open  air. 
But  from  that  time  he  convalesced  rapidly. 

All  this  time  Thekla  had  lived  under  the  same  roof 
with  him.  At  first  she  had  slept  in  his  room  on  the 


Victory  at  Last  379 

lounge,  and  then  Fran  Stoltenhagen  was  obliged  to  rent 
a  small  room  for  her  in  another  apartment  of  the  same 
house  under  her  own  name,  in  order  to  avoid  reporting 
Thekla's  to  the  police.  Overcoming  all  false  modesty, 
Thekla  had  taken  upon  herself  the  arduous  duties  of  a 
nurse  with  a  devotion  and  thoughtfulness  that  com- 
pelled the  admiration  of  the  attending  physician  and 
finally  overcame  even  Frau  Stoltenhagen' s  hostility. 
Of  course  the  good  woman  was  not  long  in  discovering 
that  this  pretty,  well-bred  young  lady  was  Florian's 
chosen  bride  and  that  there  was  absolutely  no  more  hope 
for  her  nieca  And  Frieda  herself  preferred  to  give 
up  her  designs  upon  her  aunt's  lodger  and  took  a  posi- 
tion as  saleswoman  in  a  butter  and  cheese  shop  in  a 
particularly  military  quarter  of  the  city,  where  her 
chances  of  making  the  acquaintance  of  nice  gentlemen 
only  were  numerous. 

From  time  to  time  Thekla  communicated  in  a  round- 
about way  with  her  foster-parents,  but  without  reveal- 
ing her  biding-place  or  the  real  reason  for  her  absence. 
What  most  retarded  Florian's  convalescence  was  the 
unavoidable  worry  about  his  money-affairs.  The 
sheriff's  deputy  called  at  least  once  every  week  to  de- 
liver official  communications  or  make  some  attachment, 
and  of  course  this  could  not  be  kept  from  the  patient 
after  he  had  recovered  his  senses.  To  be  sure,  a  few 
of  his  smaller  debts  had  been  met,  thanks  to  the  exer- 
tions of  Baron  von  Ried,  but  there  were  still  some  thou- 
sand marks  outstanding,  for  which  Florian  was  obliged 
to  give  notes,  in  the  hope  of  meeting  them  out  of  the 
profits  of  a  new  concert  tour.  The  room-rent  and  the 
expenses  of  his  illness  Thekla  paid,  but  towards  Christ- 
mas her  means,  too,  were  well-nigh  exhausted,  in  spite 


380  Florian  Mayr 

of  the  fact  that  she  had  pawned  nearly  all  the  jewelry 
that  she  had  brought  with  her.  And  so  at  last  Florian's 
watch,  his  evening-suit  and  whatever  else  was  not  ab- 
eolutely  necessary  for  the  moment  wandered  to  the 
pawn-office. 

But  worst  of  all  was  the  probability  that  Florian 
would  be  prevented  from  following  his  calling  for 
months.  Playing  the  piano  was  of  course  entirely  out 
of  the  question  until  his  nerves  had  quite  recovered  their 
normal  strength,  and  then  it  was  very  probable  that  he 
would  need  quite  a  long  period  of  practice  before  he 
got  back  his  old  technical  facility.  It  would  have  been 
very  easy  for  the  rich  Consul  Bunnester  to  pull  a 
couple  of  big  bills  out  of  his  safe  and  so  put  an  end  to 
all  worry,  but  Florian's  pride  rebelled  against  begging 
of  the  man  who  doubtless  regarded  him  as  the  seducer 
that  had  enticed  his  beloved  daughter  from  the  straight 
and  narrow  path.  That  he  would  marry  Thekla,  with 
or  without  the  Burmesters'  blessing,  Florian  had  firmly 
made  up  his  mind.  But  he  wished  to  earn  the  means 
to  do  so  himself.  He  was  not  going  to  accept  any 
money  from  the  Burmesters  so  long  as  they  threw  it 
to  their  daughter  merely  as  a  kind  of  humiliating 
charity.  Only  Thekla's  steadfast  belief  in  his  future, 
the  serene  cheerfulness  which  she  always  showed  to- 
wards him,  kept  up  his  courage  and  drove  from  his  sick- 
room the  specter  of  anxiety  time  and  time  again. 

Baron  von  Bied,  too,  proved  himself  a  true  friend 
and  called  frequently  to  consult  with  Thekla  about 
business  matters  and  to  further  her  efforts  to  brighten 
up  the  sick  man  when  he  showed  a  tendency  to  be 
despondent.  Later  on  he  brought  his  raven-tressed 
sweetheart,  Libussa  Tomatschek,  with  him,  and  even 


Victory  at  Last  381 

the  handsome  Toby  Tomatschek,  who  had  a  pusillani- 
mous fear  of  contagious  diseases,  consented  towards 
the  end  to  be  one  of  the  company  when  Florian's  few* 
friends  gathered  in  his  sick-room  for  tea.  The  great 
man  could  be  very  agreeable  and  considerate  on  such 
occasions.  He  told  amusing  stories  of  theatrical  and 
artistic  life  extremely  well,  and  occasionally  played  for 
them  on  his  violin,  of  which  instrument  he  was  really 
a  master.  In  fact  Herr  Tomatschek  had  become  much 
more  human  since  his  daughter  had  scored  a  pretty 
success  on  the  stage  and  had  finally  been  more  or  less 
cured  of  her  indolent  dreams  of  genius  which  had  pre- 
vented her  turning  her  talents  to  any  account.  The 
baron's  play,  which  bore  the  brutal  title,  The  Black- 
guard, had  proved  a  failure,  but  Libussa  Tomatschek, 
who  had  played  the  principal  role  in  the  piece,  had  been 
hailed  by  the  critics  as  possessing  unquestionable  talent, 
so  that  the  baron's  efforts  had  been  at  least  successful 
in  starting  this  girl,  whose  queer  nature  had  now  at- 
tracted and  now  repelled  him,  upon  a  regular  and  rea- 
sonable course.  Otherwise  she  still  remained,  as  the 
baron  poetically  put  it,  a  "  pseudo-demoniac  terrier " 
and  a  "  frog  with  oak-leaves."  Even  Jean  d'Oettern, 
to  whom  in  noble  unselfishness  the  baron  had  brought 
her,  that  he  might  complete  the  task  of  awakening  her 
femininity,  had  made  an  absolute  failure  of  this  diffi- 
cult case. 

At  their  unpretentious  but  jolly  evening  gatherings, 
Thekla  played  the  hostess  in  the  most  charming  man- 
ner. Everybody  was  in  love  with  her,  not  excepting 
Libussa  of  the  frowning  brow.  Everybody  called  her 
"  sweet  Frau  Thekla,"  and  one  evening  the  baron  even 
went  so  far  as  to  declare  with  deep  emotion  that  for  her 


382  Florian  Mayr 

sake  lie  was  ready  to  abjure  all  his  heretical  theories  in 
regard  to  holy  matrimony.  Thekla's  relation  to  her 
sick  lover  was  looked  upon  as  a  real  marriage  by  their 
little  coterie  of  friends. 

A  few  days  before  Christmas  Thekla  left  her  Florian, 
who  no  longer  had  need  of  her  nursing,  to  return  to 
her  parents,  Florian  would  have  needed  to  say  but  a 
single  word  and  she  would  have  remained  with  him 
as  his  wife,  even  without  her  parents'  consent  and, 
therefore,  without  legal  recognition.  In  the  five  or  six 
weeks  during  which  she  had  been  with  him  as  a  sister 
of  charity  she  had  learned  what  poverty  was  with  its 
burdensome  cares  and  the  dread  of  the  coming  day. 
She  had  learned  what  the  illness  of  the  bread-winner 
meant  to  a  family  without  means,  and  how  much  cour- 
age and  strength  of  character  an  artist-life,  this  weary 
dragging  oneself  from  disappointment  to  disappoint- 
ment, from  renunciation  to  renunciation,  demanded; 
and  yet  at  a  sign  from  the  man  she  loved  she  would 
gladly  have  given  up  her  comfortable  but  meaningless 
existence  to  share  his  uncertain  future.  During  this 
period  of  trial  she  had  developed  all  her  good  character- 
istics to  the  very  best  advantage.  The  reckless  dash 
which,  like  a  canary  that  has  never  learned  to  fly,  she 
had  made  from  her  golden  cage  into  freedom,  so  fraught 
with  danger,  had  been,  strangely  enough,  a  complete 
success.  The  strictly  watched  young  girl  without  pur- 
pose in  life  had  been  transformed  into  a  mature  young 
woman  who  knew  how  to  use  her  intellectual  and  physi- 
cal powers  to  good  purpose. 

But  Florian  was  not  willing  to  ask  a  further  sacri- 
fice of  her.  It  was  still  possible  that  the  Burmesters> 
or  at  all  events  the  consul,  would  recognize  her  noble 


Victory  at  Last  383 

courage  and  bring  themselves  to  assent,  even  though 
unwillingly,  to  her  heart's  choice.  In  that  case  it 
was  probable  that  they  would  give  her  out  of  their 
superfluity  at  least  enough  to  keep  her  from  need  for 
the  rest  of  her  life.  Florian  was  willing  to  accept  that 
much  as  soon  as  he  had  worked  himself  once  more  into 
a  position  where  he  could  present  himself  before  her 
foster-parents  as  a  man  who  had  won  a  respectable 
station  in  life  and  a  tolerable  subsistence.  If  now 
Thekla  should  go  further  and  outrage  every  rule  of 
custom  and  decency  that  her  parents  held  in  honor,  it 
might  be  regarded  as  a  certainty  that  they  would  dis- 
own her  entirely  and  leave  her  to  her  fate  without  any 
assistance  whatever.  He  therefore  advised  her  him- 
self to  return  first  to  the  Burmesters  and  to  do  what 
they  wished  until  he  should  feel  justified  in  claiming 
her  for  good.  Nor  should  she  bind  herself  by  any 
promise  to  him.  As  long  as  she  loved  him  she  would 
wait  for  him,  that  was  a  matter  of  course.  That  she 
would  no  longer  allow  herself  to  be  coerced,  he  was 
convinced.  If  she  married  another,  he  knew  it  would 
be  because  she  had  ceased  to  love  him.  And  he  begged 
her  earnestly  not  to  humiliate  him  by  covert  financial 
assistance.  He  would  manage  somehow  to  fight  his 
way  honestly  through,  until  he  should  once  more  be 
able  to  support  himself  in  a  dignified  manner  by  his 
profession. 

With  deep  emotion  the  betrothed  pair  took  leave  of 
each  other  in  their  Luisenplatz  rooms,  and  then  Florian 
carried  her  valise  for  her  as  far  as  the  Markgrafen- 
strasse,  for  both  together  did  not  have  money  enough 
to  pay  for  a  cab.  One  more  silent  press  of  the  hand  and 
she  pulled  the  bell  at  the  entrance  of  the  palatial  edifice 


384  Florian  Mayr 

in  which  she  had  grown  to  womanhood,  while  he  de- 
parted with  giant  strides  without  once  looking  round. — 

The  consul  was  out.  Frau  Olga  received  the  prodi- 
gal alone.  She  welcomed  her  with  icy  coldness;  and, 
after  Thekla  had  told  the  simple  truth  in  a  resolute 
voice,  her  foster-mother,  losing  all  control  of  herself, 
overwhelmed  the  poor  girl  with  a  storm  of  furious 
threats  and  insulting  abuse. 

"  I  knew,"  she  closed  her  passionate  outburst,  "  I 
knew  well  enough  that  you  would  end  this  way  from 
the  day  I  caught  you  hiding  that  dirty,  back-stairs 
novel  under  your  pillow.  With  such  parents  you 
couldn't  help  being  attracted  by  what  is  low.  Be- 
tween us  all  is  over  —  I'll  never  call  you  my  daugh- 
ter again!  And  you  needn't  think  that  we  shall  give 
you  the  means  to  go  on  living  with  that  fellow.  You 
may  just  see  how  you  can  get  on  without  us !  You  can 
become  a  sister  of  charity  if  you've  got  such  a  passion 
for  nursing !  " 

The  consul  received  his  pet  in  quite  a  different  man- 
ner. He  clasped  her  in  his  arms  without  saying  a 
word,  and,  after  she  had  poured  out  her  heart  to  him, 
he  let  her  cry  herself  out  on  his  breast  and  even  cried 
with  her.  But  nevertheless  he  could  not  bring  himself 
to  look  with  approval  upon  Thekla's  relation  to  Florian 
nor  to  believe  in  his  innocence  and  magnanimity  which 
Thekla  praised  so  enthusiastically.  Florian  was  and 
remained  for  him  one  who  was  branded  in  the  eyes  of 
the  world,  and  he  was  convinced  that  there  was  a  good 
deal  of  truth  in  the  things  that  the  newspapers  had 
said  about  the  young  pianist.  On  the  evening  of  the 
same  day  a  bitter  controversy  took  place  between  the 
consul  and  his  wife,  with  the  result  that  Thekla  was 


Victory  at  Last  385 

informed  that  after  Christmas  she  would  be  taken  to 
Lausanne  by  her  father  and  there  placed  in  an  institute 
for  young  ladies. 

During  the  holidays  Frau  Burmester  made  a  point  of 
appearing  at  concerts  and  social  gatherings  with  Thekla 
and  took  pains  to  be  extremely  affectionate  towards  her, 
with  a  view  to  disarming  the  gossip  that  had  naturally 
been  engendered  by  the  mysterious  disappearance  of  the 
young  lady,  and  Thekla  was  obliged  by  keeping  silence 
to  substantiate  her  mother's  falsehoods.  At  home  they 
never  spoke  to  each  other. — 

Florian' s  Christmas  was  a  sad  one.  His  parents  had 
sent  him  fifty  marks  at  the  baron's  instigation.  With 
the  best  intentions  in  the  world  they  could  not  spare 
more.  Xor  did  Florian  wish  to  be  a  burden  to  them 
or  to  his  few  other  friends  who  had  assisted  him  in  his 
misfortunes.  He  preferred  to  regard  all  these  contri- 
butions as  loans,  and  resolved  not  to  rest  until  he  had 
repaid  every  penny,  including  the  amount  of  his  notes. 
His  friends  advised  him  to  ask  assistance  of  Liszt,  who, 
after  all,  as  the  real  cause  of  all  his  misfortunes,  was 
most  bound  to  give  it.  But  of  that  Florian  would  not 
hear.  Liszt's  pocketbook  was  already  dipped  into  by 
so  many  unworthy  persons,  who  called  themselves  his 
pupils  and  who  sent  him  the  bills  of  their  shoemakers, 
their  tailors,  and  their  landlords  in  return  for  his  kind- 
ness in  tolerating  their  presence.  Florian  did  not  care 
to  place  himself  on  the  same  footing  with  such  parasites. 

He  first  tried  to  earn  a  living  as  a  musical  critic ;  but, 
as  soon  as  he  made  himself  known  in  a  newspaper  office, 
people  recalled  the  Christ  fiasco  and  refused  to  have 
anything  to  do  with  him.  It  would  have  been  an  easy 
matter  to  prove  his  innocence  by  producing  Liszt's  let- 


386  Florian  Mayr 

ter,  but,  if  he  had  done  so,  the  newspapers  would  have 
taken  the  affair  up  again  and  would  certainly  not  have 
failed  to  pour  out  the  vials  of  their  mockery  upon  the 
pious  Abbe,  who  did  not  count  the  enemies  of  the  Pope 
worthy  to  listen  to  his  music,  and  Florian  wished 
neither  to  expose  his  venerated  Master  to  derision  nor 
himself  to  the  suspicion  of  taking  an  ignoble  revenge. 
The  position  in  the  conservatory  that  he  had  formerly 
occupied  had  of  course  long  since  been  filled,  and  the 
other  schools  had  nothing  to  offer  him.  He  could  not 
present  himself  again  at  the  aristocratic  houses  where 
he  had  formerly  received  ten  marks  an  hour,  for  the 
poison  of  calumny,  injected  by  Prczewalski,  in  addition 
to  the  denunciations  of  the  newspapers,  had  not  failed 
of  its  effect  in  those  circles.  Besides  it  was  the  cus- 
tom in  such  families  to  require  of  their  daughters' 
teachers  that  they  should  now  and  then  display  their 
art  at  social  functions,  and  Florian  had,  to  his  horror, 
convinced  himself  by  a  first  trial,  undertaken  against 
the  orders  of  his  physician,  that  he  could  not  play  at 
all.  His  fingers  trembled  to  such  an  extent  that  he 
was  not  able  to  run  a  decent  C-major  scale.  With  that 
naivete  which  is  apt  to  distinguish  the  guild  of  physi- 
cians, his  good  doctor  had  ordered  him  to  abstain  from 
all  mental  activity,  to  nourish  himself  abundantly,  and 
take  lots  of  exercise  in  the  open  air. 

The  last  part  of  this  advice,  at  any  rate,  proved  easy 
to  follow.  Every  morning  for  a  whole  week  Florian 
was  to  be  found  in  the  motley  crowd  of  the  unemployed 
that  besieged  the  offices  of  the  IntelligenzblaU  and  the 
Voss  Gazette  in  order  to  get  hold  of  the  first  moist 
numbers  and  scan  with  trembling  haste  the  columns 
under  the  caption  "Help  Wanted."  Then  he  ran 


Victory  at  Last  387 

about  the  whole  day  from  one  address  to  another  and 
offered  his  services  as  messenger,  market-assistant, 
whitewasher,  and  everything  else  possible  and  impos- 
sible, but  always  without  success.  The  only  thing  he 
managed  to  pick  up  was  a  few  piano  lessons  in  poor 
people's  houses  at  fifty  pfennigs  an  hour!  He  was 
glad  to  get  them.  To  be  sure,  he  did  not  show  these 
patrons  his  recommendations  from  Liszt  and  Wagner. 

In  order  to  make  use  of  all  his  leisure  time  he  an- 
swered an  advertisement  in  the  Voss  Gazette  for  a  news- 
paper-carrier, and,  to  his  great  joy,  obtained  the  posi- 
tion and  was  assigned  to  a  district  comprising  a  part  of 
the  avenue  Unter  den  Linden  and  the  Wilhelmstrasse. 
In  this  way  he  got  exercise  enough  in  the  open  air,  to 
say  the  least,  and  also  the  entry  to  the  finest  houses. 
He  took  up  his  new  duties  on  the  first  of  January 
and  one  of  the  first  houses  in  which  he  left  his  "  Aunty 
Voss  "  was  the  palace  of  the  Countess  Tockenburg ! 

It  was  fortunate  that  in  this  aristocratic  neighbor- 
hood he  was  not  obliged  to  climb  many  flights  of  stairs, 
for  he  would  not  have  been  physically  able  to  do  that. 
He  had  given  up  his  room  at  Frau  Stoltenhagen's, 
which  was  too  dear  for  his  present  circumstances,  and 
had  rented  a  modest  little  chamber  in  a  rear  house  of 
the  new  Eossstrasse.  At  first  he  returned  from  his 
carrying  expeditions  dead  tired  and  incapable  of  any 
other  occupations  for  hours.  He  earned  barely  enough 
to  be  able  to  eat  his  fill  in  the  public  soup-kitchen  and 
pay  his  rent  at  the  end  of  the  month. 

To  be  sure  he  meditated  upon  turning  his  back  on 
this  terrible  Berlin  to  try  his  luck  in  some  other  musi- 
cal city,  ignorant  of  himself  and  his  misfortunes,  but 
that  after  all  would  have  been  "  letting  the  sparrow  out 


388  Florian  Mayr 

of  his  hand  in  order  to  catch  the  pigeon  on  the  roof." 
It  seemed  best  to  persevere  patiently  until  his  return- 
ing health  should  enable  him  to  practice  his  profession 
once  more.  !N"or  did  he  wish  to  be  a  burden  to  his  par- 
ents, quite  outside  the  consideration  that  he  would  have 
to  borrow  the  traveling  expenses.  His  hard  luck  had 
only  served  to  intensify  his  pride,  to  stiffen  his  back- 
bone, and,  as  the  phrase  runs,  to  grow  hair  on  his  teeth. 
He  would  fight  it  out  alone.  He  kept  his  new  address 
concealed  even  from  the  baron  and  his  few  other 
friends.  Thekla  alone,  with  whom  he  had  carried  on 
a  lively  correspondence  ever  since  she  had  gone  to 
Lausanne,  knew  where  he  was. 

Fortunately  the  weather  in  January  and  the  first 
half  of  February  had  been  mostly  bright,  dry  and  cold, 
which  so  strengthened  Florian's  nerves  that  the  churlish- 
ness of  the  elements  during  the  rest  of  February 
and  the  month  of  March  did  not  affect  his  health.  In 
the  meantime  he  had  rented  an  upright  piano  and  be- 
gun to  practice  regularly.  In  the  course  of  six  weeks 
he  had  made  such  progress  that  his  fingers  again  obeyed 
him  willingly;  but  there  was  still  much  to  do  before 
he  could  think  of  undertaking  a  concert  tour.  In  the 
first  place  he  found  no  time  to  apply  himself  to  his 
practice  as  a  virtuoso  should  who  must  command  an 
extensive  repertory  without  notes.  He  therefore  gave 
up  his  connection  with  the  Voss  Gazette  on  the  first  of 
April  as  well  as  his  fifty-pfennig  lessons. 

As  he  was  now  in  form  to  play  to  people  and  able  to 
make  use  of  his  splendid  recommendations,  he.  suc- 
ceeded in  obtaining  excellent  engagements  in  well-to- 
do  families  as  pianist  and  accompanist,  and  also  as 
coach  for  singers  in  studying  their  parts.  He  was  thus 


Victory  at  Last  389 

enabled,  not  only  to  earn  a  living,  but  began  as  well  to 
lay  aside  small  sums  for  the  settlement  of  his  debts. 
He  also  began  negotiations  with  agencies  outside  of 
Berlin,  through  which  numerous  engagements  for  the 
summer  were  held  out  to  him.  And  now  at  last,  when 
the  black  night  of  misfortune  had  begun  to  flee  before 
the  dawn  of  a  happier  future;  when  his  dogged  pride 
had  triumphed  over  Fate's  crudest  persecutions, —  now 
at  last  he  sat  down  and  wrote  his  beloved  Master  a  faith- 
ful account  of  all  that  had  happened  and  asked  for  his 
assistance  in  case  a  suitable  position  as  teacher  or  con- 
ductor should  become  vacant. 

By  return  post  came  the  answer  from  Rome.  Liszt 
had  had  no  idea  how  disastrous  his  refusal  to  allow  the 
performance  of  his  Christ  had  been  for  his  poor  Flo- 
rian.  At  the  time  he  had  not  yet  recovered  from  the 
effects  of  his  wearisome  journey  and  was  already  so 
taken  up  by  all  sorts  of  demands  upon  him  in  Rome, 
that  he  had  not  reflected  upon  the  consequences  of  his 
refusal.  But  several  weeks  later,  when,  in  surprise  at 
hearing  nothing  further  from  Florian,  he  turned  the 
matter  over  in  his  mind  and  discussed  it  with  his  young 
friends,  he  had  indeed  come  to  the  conclusion  that  he 
had  evilly  rewarded  the  devotion  of  his  zealous  cham- 
pion. He  had  thought,  so  he  now  wrote,  that  Florian 
had  been  angry  with  him  on  that  account,  and  he  had 
written  a  long  explanation  and  offered  to  make  good 
any  losses  that  Florian  might  personally  have  suffered. 
This  letter,  however,  had  been  returned  as  undeliver- 
able.  In  the  most  cordial  terms,  Liszt  now  expressed 
the  really  fatherly  sympathy  which  he  felt  for  the  mis- 
fortunes of  his  favorite  pupil,  and  promised  him  not 
only  the  payment  of  his  debts  but  also  the  most  com- 


390  Florian  Mayr 

plete  vindication  for  the  slanders  that  had  been  heaped 
upon  him.  At  the  beginning  of  May  he  would  stop 
a  few  days  in  Berlin  before  returning  to  Weimar,  and 
would  take  advantage  of  the  opportunity  to  introduce 
Florian  personally  to  several  aristocratic  families,  as 
well  as  to  the  principal  musical  potentates  of  the  capi- 
tal. He  already  had  a  suitable  position  picked  out  for 
him,  but  did  not  care  to  talk  about  it  until  he  was  sure 
of  securing  it. 

Florian  was  naturally  overjoyed  at  receiving  this 
letter,  and  a  feeling  of  such  pure  joy  and  exultation 
came  over  him  as  he  had  never  known  in  his  happiest 
Weimar  days.  He  threw  himself  into  his  practicing 
with  fanatical  zeal  and  made  astonishing  progress.  He 
also  rented  in  a  better  quarter  of  the  city  a  larger  room, 
in  which  he  installed  a  grand  piano.  His  aversion 
to  the  society  of  his  fellow-beings  suddenly  disappeared. 
The  people,  in  whose  houses  he  taught  and  played,  were 
delighted  with  his  gayety  and  his  witty  Bavarian  blunt- 
ness,  and,  if  he  had  not  needed  his  time  for  something 
better,  he  might  have  become  the  lion  of  the  musical 
salons. 

He  wrote  Thekla  almost  daily,  if  it  was  only  a  hu- 
morous line  or  two  on  a  postcard.  Out  of  the  unex- 
pectedly large  sum  which  a  rich  banker  paid  him  for 
a  private  recital  he  bought  a  beautiful  ring  for  his 
sweetheart,  which  he  begged  her  to  regard  for  the  time 
being  as  an  engagement-ring.  She  was  to  do  every- 
thing she  possibly  could  to  get  permission  to  come  to 
Berlin  during  the  first  week  in  May  in  order  to  be  a 
witness  of  his  triumph.  In  case  he  should  really  ob- 
tain the  position  that  Liszt  had  in  mind  for  him,  he  in- 
tended to  ask  her  foster-parents  for  her  hand. — 


Victory  at  Last  391 

On  the  evening  of  the  third  of  May  a  brilliant  mu- 
sical soiree  took  place  at  the  Palais  Tockenburg  to  which 
the  very  best  society  of  the  capital  was  invited.  Even 
the  Crown  Prince  and  his  consort,  as  well  as  several 
other  Princes  and  Princesses  of  the  royal  family,  had 
accepted  the  invitation  with  pleasure,  for  a  special  at- 
traction was  promised  for  this  evening:  the  venerable 
Master,  Franz  Liszt,  was  to  be  present.  From  eight 
o'clock  on,  carriage  after  carriage  drew  up  at  the  en- 
trance to  the  palace  and  a  crowd  of  bystanders  waited 
about  in  spite  of  the  inclement  weather  to  see  the 
elegant  ladies  in  their  magnificent  toilettes  descend,  as 
well  as  the  highest  Court  dignitaries,  the  brightest 
lights  in  the  worlds  of  art  and  science  and  the  mem- 
bers of  the  reigning  family.  Shortly  after  half-past 
eight  the  coupe  of  the  Countess  Tockenburg  drew  up 
before  the  entrance.  The  palace  porter,  who,  with  his 
curved  Turkish  saber  hanging  from  a  broad  bandelier 
of  cloth-of-gold,  a  befeathered  chapeau  upon  his 
haughty  head,  and  an  imposing  wand  tipped  with  a 
gilt  ball  in  his  hand,  presented  such  an  awe-inspiring 
appearance  that  without  any  doubt  the  inhabitants  of 
whatever  desert  island  he  might  have  landed  on  would 
have  thrown  themselves  flat  on  their  faces  before  him, — 
this  mighty  man  scorned  not  to  hurry  down  the  stone 
steps  in  his  own  magnificent  person  and  open  the 
carriage-door,  for  he  knew  that  the  countess  had  sent 
her  own  equipage  to  fetch  the  great  Master  of  music 
from  his  hotel.  But  the  gaunt  young  man  in  evening- 
dress,  without  a  single  decoration,  who  sprang  so 
lightly  out  of  the  coupe  that  his  long  brown  hair  flopped 
about  his  ears,  that  surely  couldn't  be  —  ?  The  stately 
porter  quite  forgot  his  dignity  and  stood  there  staring 


392  Florian  Mayr 

with  open  mouth.  Well,  what  extraordinary  resem- 
blances there  were,  to  be  sure !  This  young  gentleman, 
who  was  helping  the  venerable  guest  of  honor  of  his 
gracious  mistress  out  of  the  carriage,  was  the  abso- 
lute double  of  —  what's-his-name  —  the  paper-carrier, 
Mayr,  with  whom  he  had  so  often  gossiped  in  the  por- 
ter's lodge!  But  what  was  that?  The  young  gentle- 
man, who  was  evidently  also  a  great  artist,  took  off  his 
hat  to  him,  the  porter  of  Count  Tockenburg,  called  him 
by  name  and  wished  him  good-evening ! 

"  How  are  you  ?  How  are  you  getting  on  ?  How's 
your  family  ? " 

The  porter  was  too  astounded  to  answer*  And  be- 
hold —  the  great  Franz  Liszt  himself  nodded  pleasantly 
to  him  and  said : 

"  Aha !  The  gentlemen  are  already  acquainted !  I 
am  sorry,  my  dear  sir,  that  Herr  "Mayr  will  no  longer 
be  able  to  bring  you  the  newspapers,  for  he  has  just 
seen  fit  to  accept  a  professorship  in  the  conservatory  of 
music  at  Munich !  "  And  with  a  hearty  laugh  the  aged 
Master  ascended  the  stairs  on  the  arm  of  his  young 
friend. 

When  the  carriage  drove  up  the  porter  had  made  a 
sign  to  a  lackey  who  announced  to  His  Excellency  Count 
Tockenburg  and  the  countess  the  arrival  of  their  cele- 
brated guest,  and  thus  the  great  Master  was  received  by 
his  hosts  at  the  head  of  the  stairs. 

As  soon  as  the  usual  phrases  of  greeting  had  been 
exchanged,  Liszt  turned  to  Florian,  who  had  modestly 
remained  a  few  paces  behind,  and  drew  him  forward 
by  the  hand,  saying : 

"  Votre  Excellence  et  chere  Comtesse  —  vous  me  per- 
mettrez  de  vous  presenter  mon  jeune  ami  Florian  Mayr, 


Victory  at  Last  393 

artiste  de  qualite  superieure  et  de  qui  je  fais  grand  cos, 
moil  Je  vous  demande  pardon  pour  le  sans  fagon  de 
I' introduction,  mais  — " 

"Mais  cela  va  sans  dire,  cher  maitre,"  chirruped 
Countess  Fifi  in  her  most  birdlike  tone.  "  Je  suis  en- 
chantee —  ah,  tiens!  Mayr  —  sans  e,  a/vec  y-grec  — 
Florian  Mayr?  Mais  je  me  souviens  —  mais  certes!  " 

She  raised  her  long-handled  lorgnon  to  her  eyes  and 
gazed  at  Florian  critically  for  a  moment,  showing  her 
small,  white  teeth  as  she  was  wont  to  do  when  her 
smile  was  particularly  amiable.  Then  she  gave  him  her 
hand,  which  he  carried  to  his  lips  with  a  very  pretty 
bow,  and  inquired: 

"You  are  the  Christ  Mayr,  are  you  not?  Oh,  I 
was  so  very  sorry  not  to  be  able  to  receive  you  when  you 
called.  I  was  so  deeply  interested  in  your  magnificent 
enterprise  and  I  regretted  extremely  that  you  were 
obliged  to  abandon  it.  Unfortunately  I  was  not  quite 
au  fait  all  winter,  and  yet  I  had  so  much  to  do;  you 
understand  — " 

"  Oh,  lie  away,  you  and  the  Old  Nick ! "  thought 
Florian  to  himself,  as  he  nodded  affirmatively  with  a 
meaningless  smile. 

The  Master  was  evidently  amused  by  the  countess's 
embarrassment.  He  chuckled  in  great  glee  and  said  to 
her,  "  Ce  cher  Florian,  he's  a  most  unlucky  fellow  — 
hahaha !  He  was  not  very  favorably  introduced  to  you 
the  first  time.  The  Badacs  —  pchah  —  cette  chere 
bete!  Enfin  —  he's  always  unlucky  —  haha!  But 
that's  going  to  stop  now  —  I  won't  have  it  any  longer 
—  pchah,  for  I  love  this  young  man  and  I  know  he  will 
do  me  honor !  " 

Liszt  bestowed  one  more  look  of  tender  affection  upon 


394  Florian  Mayr 

his  radiantly  happy  disciple,  then  gallantly  gave  his 
arm  to  the  countess  and  entered  the  brilliantly  illu- 
minated ball-room,  while  His  Excellency  the  Ambassa- 
dor did  not  disdain  to  form  the  second  pair  with  Florian. 
The  count  had  no  time  to  bother  himself  with  musical 
matters,  and  was  therefore  unaware  that,  in  doing  this 
simple  act  of  politeness,  he  was  offering  a  public  vin- 
dication to  a  man  who  had  been  branded  by  the  press  as 
a  swindler. 

Florian  was  glad  when,  soon  after  their  entrance 
into  the  ball-room,  the  count  was  obliged  to  leave  him 
in  order  to  fulfill  more  important  duties.  He  with- 
drew immediately  into  a  corner,  whence,  thanks  to  his 
height,  he  could  overlook  the  gay  and  brilliant  throng. 
About  noon  he  had  received  a  note  from  Thekla  who 
had  arrived  ill  Berlin  the  night  before.  The  good- 
hearted  consul  had  prevailed  upon  his  wife,  though  with 
much  difficulty,  to  allow  their  daughter  to  come  home. 
The  Burmesters  had  also  received  invitations  for  this 
evening,  but  Thekla  was  not  sure  that  she  would  be 
allowed  to  go,  as  she  had  no  new  gown  elegant  enough 
for  a  soiree  at  the  Countess  Tockenburg's.  With 
beating  heart  Florian  looked  about  him.  He  would 
have  been  desperately  unhappy  if  his  sweetheart  had 
been  absent  on  this,  his  evening  of  honor.  The  Mas- 
ter had  promised  him  to  arrange  it  so  that  he  should 
be  asked  to  play.  He  was  well  prepared,  but,  if 
Thekla  was  not  among  his  hearers,  it  would  be  all  up 
with  his  exultant  confidence,  for  he  felt  that  in  that 
case  he  would  be  uneasy,  and  this  evening  of  all  others 
he  must  play  welL  Just  then  he  caught  sight,  in  the 
midst  of  the  throng  in  the  middle  of  the  hall,  of  a 
tall  lady  in  a  sleeveless  gown  of  yellow  silk,  who  was 


Victory  at  Last  395 

so  startlingly  scrawny  that  it  could  only  be  Fran  Olga 
Burmester.  With  undignified  precipitation  he  made 
his  way  through  the  crowd  of  distinguished  guests  into 
the  vicinity  of  the  gaunt  lady,  and,  sure  enough,  it  was 
Frau  Olga.  And  not  far  from  her,  in  conversation 
with  an  exquisite  young  lieutenant  of  Hussars,  stood 
the  little  consul  with  his  Thekla  on  his  arm.  She 
had  on  the  same  white  gown  that  she  had  worn  the 
winter  before  in  this  very  room,  but  the  shy  young 
girl  of  a  year  ago  had  became  a  full-blown  beauty. 
What  eyes  the  little  Hussar  made!  Florian  felt  a 
twinge  of  jealousy  —  but  suddenly  Thekla  caught 
sight  of  him.  A  radiant  smile  of  joy  lighted  up  her 
face;  she  dropped  her  father's  arm  and  hurried  to- 
wards him  with  outstretched  hand. 

Long  and  tight  he  held  the  little  hand  in  his  and 
said  only,  "  There  you  are !  " 

"  Yes,  here  I  am  again ! "  she  whispered  back. 
And  they  stood  there  thus  hand  in  hand,  right  in  the 
midst  of  the  flood  of  light,  surrounded  by  the  thou- 
sand-voiced murmur  of  the  chattering  company,  gaz- 
ing steadfastly  into  each  other's  eyes,  lost  to  the  world, 
intoxicated  —  dumb  with  joy  —  until  the  consul  ap- 
proached them  with  a  very  timid,  "  Ah,  good  evening, 
Herr  Mayr!" 

Without  a  word  Florian  grasped  the  fleshy  hand 
of  the  little  man  and  shook  it  cordially.  And  now  the 
Frau  Consul  also  joined  the  group. 

"  Ah,  Herr  Mayr,  you  here  too  ? "  she  exclaimed 
acidly,  bestowing  at  the  same  time  a  severely  critical 
look  upon  her  daughter.  "  Well,  you  seem  to  be  get- 
ting on  very  nicely.  You  have  recovered  remark- 
ably!" 


396  Florian  Mayr 

"  Yes,  thank  you,  ma'am,  I'm  very  well  indeed !  " 
replied  Florian  cheerily.  "  I  dare  say  you're  sur- 
prised to  find  me  here  after  what  happened  last  year. 
But  this  time  I  have  a  better  introduction,  you  know, — 
the  Master  wishes  to  have  me  play  to-night !  " 

"  Ah,  indeed !  "  answered  Frau  Burmester,  looking 
down  on  him  with  a  smile  of  incredulity.  "  I  didn't 
notice  your  name  on  the  programme."  And  she 
handed  him  with  two  fingers  an  elegantly  printed  card. 

Of  course  his  name  was  not  there;  he  knew  that 
well  enough,  but  nevertheless  he  read  the  programme 
through.  The  names  of  the  performers  were  nearly 
all  good  and  well-known,  and  amongst  them  —  An- 
tonine  Prczewalski! 

"  He  too ! "  involuntarily  cried  Florian  aloud. 
Then  he  handed  the  programme  back  to  the  Frau 
Consul  with  a  shrug  and  said, 

"  Xever  mind,  the  Master  will  arrange  it  all  right !  " 

And  the  Master  did  indeed  arrange  it  in  a  very  sim- 
ple manner.  When  the  countess  handed  him  the  pro- 
gramme to  read  he  made  a  grimace  as  his  eye  fell  on 
the  name  "  Prczewalski,"  and  he  exclaimed  with  a 
frown  that  made  his  white  eye-brows  stand  out,  "  Oh, 
that  fellow !  I  know  him !  That's  '  Finis  Poloniae  ' ! 
Well,  if  he  plays  very  finely  indeed  perhaps  I'll  beg 
his  pardon,  pchah!  On  one  occasion  I  prompted  him 
with  a  somewhat  loud  —  souflet !  " 

Countess  Fifi,  who  of  course  did  not  understand  the 
pun,  replied  seriously  in  a  tone  of  regret,  "  I  am 
sorry  to  say  that  this  number  must  be  omitted.  I  have 
never  heard  the  gentleman  play  myself,  but  he  was 
recommended  to  me  by  distinguished  art-patrons.  He 
sent  his  regrets  only  an  hour  ago.  Very  likely  he 


Victory  at  Last  397 

doesn't  trust  himself  to  play  before  you,  dear  Mas- 
ter!" 

"  Oho,  bravo ! "  laughed  Liszt  much  amused. 
"  Then  let  my  Saint  Florian  ride  his  parade-charger 
in  his  place." 

The  countess  readily  assented  to  this,  and  when 
Prczewalski's  turn  came  a  young  officer  mounted  the 
platform  and  announced  that,  in  the  place  of  the  in- 
disposed Pole,  Herr  Florian  Mayr  would,  at  the  special 
request  of  Herr  Doctor  Franz  Liszt,  play  The  Legend 
of  Saint  Francis  on  the  Sea. 

Florian's  success  was  complete.  The  Master  patted 
him  on  the  head  before  all  the  world,  and  the  princely 
and  noble  guests  actually  crowded  about  him  during 
the  intermission  to  congratulate  him,  and  honored  him 
with  invitations  to  their  own  musicales. 

When  the  soiree  came  to  a  close  and  the  imperial 
and  royal  highnesses  had  departed,  Florian  went  up  to 
Liszt,  and,  with  a  deep  blush,  begged  permission  to 
introduce  his  intended  bride. 

"Tiens!"  exclaimed  the  Master  gayly.  "Is  the 
young  lady  here?  Have  you  already  surmounted  all 
the  difficulties?" 

"  Well,  no,"  replied  Florian  somewhat  abashed. 
"  I  don't  believe  her  parents  want  anything  to  do  with 
me  even  yet.  I  despair  of  the  mother  anyhow." 

"  Wait,  my  son,  I  will  help  you !  "  rejoined  Liszt 
with  his  kindly  smile,  and  he  allowed  himself  to  be  led 
through  the  throng  of  departing  guests  to  where  the 
Burmesters  were  standing. 

"  Ah,  my  friends,  I  am  very  glad  to  meet  you 
again ! "  he  cried,  approaching  the  group  with  out- 
stretched hands.  "  You  were  kind  enough  to  honor 


398  Florian  Mayr 

me  when  you  were  in  Weimar.  How  do  you  do  ? 
You  are  great  music-lovers,  are  you  not  ? " 

Frau  Burmester  was  almost  put  out  of  countenance 
by  the  honor  of  this  address  and  answered  only  with 
a  low  court  bow,  while  the  little  consul  replied  with 
droll  embarrassment,  "  Oh,  I  —  I  am  quite  a  layman, 
I  —  I  only  tag  along,  but  my  wife  is  extremely  mu- 
sical!" 

"  Is  this  your  daughter  ?  "  asked  Liszt  with  a  nod 
towards  Thekla.  She  approached  and  dropped  a  re- 
spectful curtsey.  Then  Liszt  took  her  little  hand  be- 
tween his  own  mighty  ones  and  said,  as  he  stroked  it 
tenderly,  "  My  dear  child,  I  know  you  well !  I  have 
heard  so  many  nice  things  about  you.  You  saved  the 
life  of  my  Florian.  You  are  a  brave  girl,  and  so 
pretty  too !  Your  parents  must  be  proud  of  you,  and 
our  dear,  stupid  Florian  doesn't  always  have  bad  luck, 
does  he  ?  Hahaha !  In  Weimar  they  used  to  call  him 
'  Strong-Mayr,'  but  after  this  I  shall  call  him  '  Luck- 
Mayr  ' !  Enfin  —  bravo ! r)  And  he  drew  the  deeply 
blushing  girl  gently  to-  him  and  kissed  her  on  the 
forehead  like  a  father.  Then  he  turned  smiling  to 
Florian  and  gave  him  his  right  hand,  while  he  held 
Thekla's  still  in  his  left,  and  called  out  so  loud  that  the 
whole  crowd  of  curious  bystanders  could  hear, 

"  My  dear  Professor,  I  congratulate  you  from  the 
bottom  of  my  heart !  "  And,  turning  to  Frau  Bur- 
mester, he  added  in  a  loud  tone,  "  My  dear  madam, 
when  will  you  announce  the  engagement  ? " 

Frau  Olga,  probably  for  the  first  time  in  her  life, 
stared  helplessly  at  her  husband.  But  her  confusion 
lasted  but  a  few  seconds.  Oh,  it  was  not  so  easy  to 


Victory  at  Last  399 

bluff  her !  A  transitory  flush  suddenly  shot  into  her 
cheeks  and  her  eyes  flashed. 

"  Oh,"  she  exclaimed  excitedly,  her  breath  coming 
quick,  "  I  thought  to-morrow  evening  —  just  amongst 
ourselves !  It  would  be  a  great  honor  for  us  if  we 
might  welcome  you,  reverend  sir,  at  our  little  celebra- 
tion!" 

Liszt  laughed  in  high  glee  and  then  said  with  a 
polite  bow,  "  My  dear  madam,  you  have  caught  me 
fairly !  I  had  really  intended  to  be  in  Weimar  by  to- 
morrow night,  but  —  no!  The  betrothal  of  my  Flo- 
rian  —  that  is  an  event,  I  can't  afford  to  miss  that ! 
Au  revoir,  my  friends !  " 

During  the  whole  of  the  next  day  Frau  Burmester 
spoke  not  a  word  with  Thekla.  She  simply  had  no 
time  to  do  so.  Early  in  the  morning  she  and  her  hus- 
band wrote  over  fifty  invitations  to  a  reception  in  honor 
of  the  engagement  of  their  daughter  to  the  "  Eoyal 
Bavarian  Professor  of  Music,  Florian  Mayr,  in  the 
presence  of  the  Herr  Abbe,  Doctor  Franz  Liszt."  A 
whole  regiment  of  messengers  was  engaged  to  trans- 
mit these  invitations,  and  then  Frau  Olga  drove  out 
to  order  a  luxurious  supper  from  one  of  the  first 
caterers  in  the  city  and  to  make  other  necessary  prepa- 
rations. 

As  very  few  of  those  invited  sent  regrets,  Liszt 
found  on  his  arrival  a  company,  "  just  amongst  our- 
selves," of  at  least  sixty  people.  The  function  proved 
a  very  tedious  one  until  supper  was  announced,  but 
the  excellent  viands  and  generous  wines  at  last  warmed 
the  company  into  more  festive  spirits.  Consul  Bur- 
mester announced  the  engagement  in  few  but  extremely 


400  Florian  Mayr 

cordial  words,  and  then  Liszt  proposed  the  health  of 
the  prospective  bridegroom,  after  he  had  given  the 
company,  in  a  most  unconventional  tone  and  in  his  own 
witty,  slightly  ironical  manner,  a  description  of  the 
excellent  characteristics  of  his  Saint  Florian,  who, 
from  a  "  guileless  fool,"  had  passed  through  a  dreadful 
state  of  "  Strong-Mayrdom  "  and  finally  developed  into 
the  most  enviable  of  all  professors.  Liszt  said  all  this 
without  rising  from  his  seat,  just  as  if  he  were  chatting 
with  the  guest  who  sat  next  him,  but  of  course  the  whole 
table  listened  in  absolute  silence,  only  to  break  forth 
in  loud  applause  and  cries  of  "  Hoch !  "  as  the  Master 
finished  and  clinked  glasses  with  Pierian. 

When  the  ices  were  served  Florian,  unwontedly  in- 
spired by  the  succession  of  fiery  wines,  rose  and  pro- 
posed a  toast  to  his  fiancee's  "  revered  parents,  under 
whose  faithful  protection  and  loving  care  this  delicate 
rosebud,  orphaned  at  its  very  birth,  had  burst  into  full- 
blown beauty !  "  It  was  one  of  those  abominably  ab- 
surd speeches,  larded  thick  with  monstrous  falsehoods, 
that  are  wont  to  be  launched  by  enthusiastic  orators  on 
all  festive  occasions.  Florian  himself  had  but  a  dim 
idea  of  the  drivel  with  which,  in  the  double  exhilaration 
of  wine  and  felicity,  he  regaled  his  hearers.  But  they 
were  nevertheless  mightily  edified  by  it,  and  Frau 
Olga,  who  had  awaited  the  end  of  his  toast  with  an  ex- 
pression of  anxious  suspense,  went  so  far  as  to  kiss  him 
on  both  cheeks  and  called  him  by  his  first  name  from 
that  solemn  moment. 

After  supper  Liszt  sat  down  at  the  piano  and  im- 
provised a  brilliant  fantasia,  full  of  power  and  exult- 
ing joyousness,  on  all  manner  of  well-known  love- 
motifs  and  wedding-marches.  Florian  and  Thekla  sat 


Victory  at  Last  401 

hand  in  band  in  front  of  the  piano  with  their  eyes 
steadfastly  fixed  on  the  aged  Master's  face,  upon  which 
the  changing  moods  of  his  marvelous  playing  were  ex- 
pressed with  inimitable  clearness. 

"  What  a  magician !  "  she  said  afterwards  to  Florian. 
"  I  don't  believe  there's  a  person  living,  no  matter  how 
unmusical,  who  wouldn't  understand  the  most  difficult 
music  when  Liszt  played  it.  I'm  so  happy  to  have 
heard  him  at  least  once !  " 

"  Yes,  you're  right  there,  sweetheart,"  replied 
Florian.  "  The  rest  of  us  really  ought  to  be  ashamed 
to  try  to  play  the  piano,  hey  ?  " 

The  company  was  of  course  half  crazy  with  delight 
and  Frau  Burmester  looked  almost  pretty,  her  face 
was  so  radiant  with  triumph.  Liszt  had  improvised 
upon  her  grand  piano !  —  Now  there  was  not  a  single 
house  in  all  musical  Berlin  whose  rivalry  she  need  fear. 
And  after  all  she  had  to  thank  this  terrible  Herr  Mayr 
for  all  that !  Oh,  he  was  such  a  delightful  man  —  and 
"  Professor  "  didn't  sound  so  bad  either ! 

The  engagement  announcements  were  sent  out  next 
day,  and  hurriedly  written  postcards  to  the  more  in- 
timate friends.  But  Fraulein  Ilonka  Badacs  received 
a  telegram.  The  wedding  was  set  for  the  end  of 
August,  after  Florian  had  finished  his  summer  concert 
tour.  Baron  von  Eied  was  to  be  best  man  and  Ilonka 
Badacs  bridesmaid.  The  faithful  girl  accepted  with 
enthusiasm.  She  declared  she  would  fly  to  Berlin  for 
the  ceremony,  even  though  she  were  in  New  York  or 
Odessa. 

But  it  so  happened  that  she  played  in  a  concert  at 
Leipsic  the  night  before  the  wedding,  so  that  she  was 
not  obliged  to  put  her  friendship  to  so  severe  a  test. 


402  Florian  Mayr 

But  —  in  spite  of  all  she  did  not  come !  On  the  morn- 
ing of  the  wedding  Florian  received  a  letter  which  ran 
as  follows: 

"  Verry  dear  friend! 

I  pleased  myself  so  much  about  your  festive  celebration 
but  now  the  circumstances  force  me  —  force  majeur,  as 
one  says,  that  I  cannot  come.  Such  Christian  family- 
celebrations  with  a  lot  of  awful  respectable  people  make 
me  nervous,  where  you  always  have  to  look  down  pious  on 
ground  or  they  look  at  you  over  the  shoulder! 

Believe  me,  verry  dear  friend,  I  run  away  from  my 
own  wedding  if  that  uncommon  stupid  Count  ever  marry 
me.  I  got  already  offer  from  him  in  Pest,  but  I  not  yet 
decide  me  because  he  show  suspicious  traces  of  intelli- 
gence !  In  meantime  I  go  tomorrow  on  little  pleasure 
trip  to  the  Switzerland  with  my  verry  dear  friend,  Jean 
d'Oettern.  0,  he  is  verry  celebrated  man!  He  also  like 
you  verry  much  and  he  lay  himself  though  unknown  at 
the  Fraulein  Bride  her  feet.  How  much  I  wish  you  joy, 
you  know  that  all  right.  The  darling  sweet  Fraulein 
Thekla  I  beg  to  kiss  thousand  times  for  me  —  especially 
on  little  earlap,  that  is  sweetest  thing  on  her !  Tomorrow 
I  drink  with  Jean  d'Oettern  a  bottle  of  champagne  and 
cry  Eljen  Florian  and  Thekla! 

Forever  (thine)  your  verry  sincerely 

ILOXKA  BADACS. 

P.  S.  The  devil  he  take  the  German  orthographic  — 
I  never  learn  him !" 


THE  END 


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